


Walls of Innocence (DuckTales AU)

by Lizaroona



Category: DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Depression, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Separation Anxiety
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26450872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lizaroona/pseuds/Lizaroona
Summary: It's a small room, but it's home. Huey, Dewey, and Louie have been confined to this space for their entire lives. They haven't lived anywhere else, and they don't know of anything else. But for Donald, it's been his prison for the last decade. Kidnapped off the street while taking his son's eggs out on a walk. And now that it's his children's tenth birthday, he's getting desperate. He wants so badly for them to have a normal life, but everything he's tried so far has been in vain.He has a plan forming, though. And it's risky, but if he waits much longer, it'll be too late.(Based off 'Room' by Emma Donoghue - you don't need to read this book to enjoy the story :D)
Relationships: Bentina Beakley & Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Bentina Beakley & Lena (Disney: DuckTales), Bentina Beakley & Scrooge McDuck, Bentina Beakley & Webby Vanderquack, Daisy Duck/Donald Duck, Della Duck & Donald Duck, Della Duck & Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Della Duck & Launchpad McQuack, Della Duck & Penumbra (Disney: DuckTales), Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Donald Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Lena & Webby Vanderquack, Dewey Duck & Huey Duck & Louie Duck & Webby Vanderquack, Donald Duck & Scrooge McDuck, Drake Mallard & Gosalyn Mallard & Launchpad McQuack, Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack, Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera & Gyro Gearloose, Lena (Disney: DuckTales) & Violet Sabrewing & Webby Vanderquack, Lena (Disney: DuckTales)/Webby Vanderquack, Mark Beaks & Donald Duck, Scrooge McDuck & Webby Vanderquack
Comments: 62
Kudos: 154





	1. Chapter One: The Birthday

**Author's Note:**

> TWO THINGS:
> 
> -This fanfiction is based off a book called 'Room' by Emma Donoghue but you don't need to know what the book is or have to have read it to enjoy the fanfiction. The basic premise is based off of this book, and I simply wanted to give credit :)  
> -There are a couple slight canon divergences, apart from the actual storyline of Donald and the triplets being stuck in a room: Donald is their biological father, and Della is their aunt. Daisy Duck is the triplet's biological mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Kidnapping, abuse

Donald slowly opened his eyes to the same popcorn ceiling he had been looking at for ten years. Internally, he sighed. Louie was still asleep next to him, and Huey and Dewey in the other bed as well. He smiled at his sons, a little sadly, and looked back up to the ceiling. Most days, he felt hardly motivated to even get out of bed, but Huey, Dewey, and Louie kept him going. He wanted to be the best dad he could be in such a terrible situation. Today, both the feelings inside of him were magnified. He wanted to go back to sleep and never wake up, because he felt ashamed that his sons were stuck there with him, that he had let everyone in his life down. But when he thought about his sons again, he smiled, and slowly got out of bed. It was their tenth birthday, and he had to give them the best birthday he could.

He inched past Louie, trying his best not to wake him up, and walked the two feet to the kitchen. He opened his fridge. "What can we make today..." he muttered to himself. The fridge was usually relatively empty. They were only given new food once a week, and it was never much. He had asked for icing and cake mix the week before, so they would be able to have that for desert. But what could they make for lunch?

He looked at the mustard, mayonnaise, lunch meat and bread in the fridge in disdain. I guess it was sandwiches... for the thirty fourth day in a row.

"Good morning dad." He turned around to see Huey stretching and getting out of bed. He smiled.

"Good morning, Huey! Happy birthday!" He grinned at him, and Huey smiled shyly.

"Are we gonna get anything?" Huey asked him slyly.

Donald smirked. "You and your brothers can open your presents when you're all awake, and we'll eat cake tonight."

Huey's eyes lit up. "Really?! YES! Thank you! I can't even remember what cake tastes like," he said wistfully.

Donald chuckled a little bit, and closed the fridge forcefully, blinking back tears. "What do you want for breakfast?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Apple jacks are good."

"Dewey finished the apple jacks off yesterday."

"Oh... Cheerios?"

Donald nodded, grabbing the box, and passing it to his son. Huey grabbed a bowl and started pouring himself cereal. Donald sat across the table from him, watching his son eat wistfully. Huey had always been the one most comfortable with their surroundings. Maybe it was time he told them the truth...

Huey noticed Donald watching him eat, and he tried his best to ignore it. He tried his best to ignore a lot of things, actually. He focused on the positive, and the things that made sense to him. And something about the way they lived... never made any sense. But they were fed, and Donald took care of him, so he chose to only focus on that.

Huey heard a huge yawn from behind him, and heard Louie moving towards them to the table. He grabbed a bowl and sat next to Huey, grabbing the box of cheerios. He smiled smugly. "Presents?"

Huey smiled back. "As soon as Dewey wakes up." On cue, Dewey let out a loud snore They both laughed.

"Let him sleep a little longer," Donald said. "If he's not up in the next fifteen minutes, I'll wake him up."

"Are there any other plans for today?" Louie asked, turning to his dad.

Huey watched Donald's eyes fill up with tears and then watched him blink them away again. It happened often when he looked at them. He never wanted to ask _why_ because he was afraid of the answer. Did he hate them? Was he disappointed in them? Or was it something else? "We're having cake tonight, and then you three can play with your presents or do whatever else you want today."

"What's for lunch?" Huey asked.

There it was again; the disappointed look. "Sandwiches."

Louie sighed, which made Donald look upset. Huey desperately spoke up and said "Sandwiches! Great! I love sandwiches!" It's not like he was lying; he enjoyed having sandwiches again. But he also blurted it out in a desperate attempt to somehow make his dad feel better. Because Donald seemed to get sadder and sadder each day.

Donald smiled a little at Huey, and got up to get himself his own cereal. Huey felt a tight pain close in his chest. Every day, the feeling that something was wrong grew to him. But he liked it here! It was his home, where he had lived for ten years, and made so many great memories with his family. Anything else seemed scary. But something here was making Donald sad, and he was afraid to know what it was.

_I should tell them._ _I need to tell them. You're a horrible father and a horrible person for not telling them yet. But you'd be an even worse person to tell them on their birthday. Wait a little bit. Tell them sometime this month. Or year. Does it really matter when? Or course it does, you piece of shi-_

"Dewey." Donald shook his middle son awake. He rolled over in an attempt to get away.

"Ten more minutes," he muttered.

"It's your birthday, Dewey!" Happy birthday!"

"Oh yeah..." Dewey muttered into the bed, and then he shot straight up, almost colliding with Donald. He was wide awake now, smiling widely. "We're ten, right?!"

Donald laughed a little at Dewey's excitement. "Yes, you're all ten! Your brothers have been waiting to open their presents!"

Dewey ran over to the table, poured himself some cereal quickly, and almost inhaled it. Huey looked concerned, and Louie looked impressed.

"Okay," Donald laughed, walking over to the bedside desk and reaching behind it. He had asked for three special items for his son's birthday, and he had obtained them after a _lot_ of arguing. And unfortunately, it meant _he_ would be coming by this evening. He didn't come by every single day, but he came often enough. Always at 9pm.

He hadn't been able to wrap them, because asking for wrapping paper would be too much. But he imagined someday, maybe he'd get to buy his sons a gift, _without_ having to ask someone for it. He could buy presents and wrapping paper of his own free will, and he could wrap them color coded to his son's favorite colors. And they'd get to play with them and with each other and interact with their extended family in the mansion, and they'd get an actual _good_ cake, with family surrounding them, and their _mother_ , and maybe... maybe even-

"Dad?" Louie called, breaking Donald out of his fantasies. His hand were shaking, but he steadied them as best as he could and grabbed the unwrapped presents.

"Sorry," he laughed, walking over. "I got distracted." He laid out the presents for everyone. They leaned forward, looking at them excitedly."For Huey," he said, picking up the first present.

Huey's eyes widened. "A new book!"

"Not just any book," Donald smiled, "The Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. I know you've been interested in having one of these since you saw those ads on TV."

Huey grabbed the book and flipped through it, his eyes basically sparkling. He reached over and hugged him. "Thank you so much!" 

Donald smiled and hugged back. "For Dewey," he said, grabbing the remote control car, "this is for you."

Dewey smiled even wider, and grabbed the car, immediately getting it out from its box. "Alright!" He said excitedly. He turned to his dad, still smiling. "Thank you."

"And for Louie," Donald said, turning to his third son, who was eying the last item on the table; a board game. "Monopoly?" Louie asked carefully, testing the word out. "I've never heard of it."

Donald's chest grew tight. Monopoly was one of the most popular board games, and his son had never heard of it. It made sense, but it didn't hurt any less. "I figured it would be something you would like. You should play it with your brothers! There's fake money, and-"

"Fake money is better than no money," Louie said, smiling, and picking up the box. "Thanks, dad."

Donald smiled at his sons. They all looked so happy. He was happy, of course, but he was never _just_ happy. There was always an underlying sadness in him. "Monopoly's lots of fun," he said. "I used to-" He cut himself off. He almost never mentioned anything about his life before they were born. But he promised himself he would tell them the truth. It would probably be best to give them a couple clues to it now. "I used to play it all the time at my uncle's house."

As expected, this got a reaction out of them. "You have an uncle?"

Donald laughed nervously. "Everyone does."

"Who's our uncle?" Dewey asked.

"Oh- I guess I said it wrong. It depends. Some people don't have either. You guys don't have an uncle, but you do have a-" he stopped himself. His throat felt tight, and he felt like he might have to throw up.

"An aunt?" Louie said hesitantly, finishing for him.

Donald wasn't sure what to say to them. And he certainly didn't want to tell them on their birthday. "Happy birthday," he said to them shortly, walking over to the bedside desk and grabbing a book he had already read twenty seven times, and was in the process of the twenty eighth time. He smiled tightly. "Enjoy your gifts."

The triplets exchanged a look, but said nothing else. Their dad sometimes acted like this; short and closed-off. Someday, they would ask him why he got so sad, but they didn't want to force anything out of him. They did exactly what he asked them to do, and what they wanted to do; enjoy their gifts.

_It wasn't until even their fifth birthday that they asked about the outside world. They hadn't gotten individual gifts that year, but Donald had gotten two books that he could read to them, which they were all entranced by. Huey was the only one out of the three who still enjoyed books in the present._

_He read a book about a girl trapped in a tower until a handsome duck came to rescue her. After he had finished reading the story, Dewey asked, "Are we like the girl in the tower?"_

_Donald was taken aback. "What?"_

_"Are we trapped, just like the girl in the tower?"_

_Donald remembered his heart sink, and in a spur of the moment decision, he said, "N- no. We choose to live here."_

_"We do?" Louie sounded skeptical._

_Donald sighed. "Well, it's a little bit of both. We... choose to be here, or at least I choose to be here. You three aren't able to survive outside."_

_Huey's face scrunched up. "Why not?"_

_Donald was saying whatever came to the top of his brain. "I'm not completely sure. Maybe your bodies and the atmosphere just don't mix well. But isn't it nice here? We've got a good life."_

_His sons smiled and nodded, and they continued on to the second story._

_Sometimes in years since then, they would answer follow up questions, and Donald would answer them quickly. He knew he was a horrible person for lying to them, but the real truth felt too dark to share with them. After all, they were still just kids. He knew he would have to tell the truth someday, but how? And when would they be able to accept it?_

_The truth was, he had no idea what he was doing. He was supposed to be in a stable environment, raising his sons with their mother, and his family. But... circumstances change. He was doing his best, and he knew his best wasn't good enough, but what else could he do?_

A couple hours had passed. Dewey was driving his remote control car around, Louie was at the table messing with the Monopoly game pieces, and Huey had been glued to his JWG ever since he got it, sitting in a gross old beanbag chair in the corner next to the TV.

Dewey was sitting across the room from the padlocked door. He was zoning out, and his remote control car was trying its best to ram through said door, with no success. Donald was taking a nap, and Dewey looked over at him.

Donald took naps pretty often; all four of them did. There wasn't much to do in such a small room. Donald, though, was on another level. Today it was just a regular nap. But there were some days when him and his brothers would deem him "gone." Donald wouldn't wake up or get out of bed all day. And if he did, it was only to go to the bathroom, or get a small snack, and then he would go back to bed. He was a zombie at these times; he didn't see any of them, and frankly it was terrifying. 

On days like those, Huey usually took over. He was the oldest and most responsible, and Dewey loved him for that. But he was also too cautious, which Dewey resented him for, too.

Huey never ever wanted to leave the space they were confined to. It was "perfect" and "safe" and "they had everything they'd ever need." But Dewey didn't believe that for a second. On TV, people were out there enjoying themselves, moving from different locations, and experiencing things he'd never experienced, or things he'd never even heard of.

Sure, Donald once said that it wasn't safe outside for them, and they would get dangerously sick if they went outside. But the older Dewey got, the more he felt like it was a lie.

And even if it was true, he just wanted to see. He wanted to go outside, just once...

_"We have the skylight. That's more than enough." Huey would always say when he expressed this to his brothers. Louie would look between the two of them nervously and stay quiet._

_Huey's too careful,_ Dewey thought. _The skylight isn't enough. I need to experience it._

Making up his mind, Dewey got up, and walked towards the door. He carefully pushed the remote control car out of the way, put his hand under the lock to muffle the sound, and started putting in numbers to guess for the four digit code.

Huey was too wrapped up in his book to notice, but Louie's head shot up. He made eye contact with Dewey, and walked over.

"What the heck are you doing?" Louie scolded.

"Trying to get out of here," Dewey said. "Can you go grab the notebook?"

Louie's face scrunched up in frustration, but he sighed and walked across the room. Carefully tiptoeing towards where Donald was sleeping, he grabbed a notebook full of lined paper from one of the shelves. When he flipped to the back, he found a list of all the four number combinations they had tried. It wasn't many, because Dewey hadn't been curious enough to actually try figuring out the combination yet. But recently, whenever Donald was asleep, he would usually try to get out. So far, with no success.

"Dewey, come on," Louie whispered. "We aren't gonna get out. Besides, it's... fine in here."

"Just give me the notebook," Dewey shot back, ignoring Louie's warnings. Holding the notebook in the crook of one arm, he started typing in number combinations with the other. However, he forgot to cover the bottom of the padlock, so the beeping sound was heard throughout the room.

Donald couldn't even remember his dream because he shot out of it so quickly. No matter what else was happening, if he heard that beeping sound, he would immediately become alert.

He heard it from the depths of his sleep, and before he was even fully awake, he shot out of bed and towards the door.

_Why now? It's the middle of the day. He never comes during the day. I gotta get the kids safe-_

Dewey and Louie were at the door, and Huey was in the corner with his book, looking startled.

"Get back," Donald said, louder and harsher than he meant it. "Get in the cabinet, I don't know why he's early but he is-"

"No, no, Dad," Louie said, pushing against Donald. "He isn't coming. It was just Dewey being Dewey."

Donald looked at Louie for a second, having trouble processing anything. He woke up in such a state of panic, he was having a hard time calming himself down. He looked at Huey in the corner, and then down at Dewey, who was holding a notebook in his hands.

"What were you doing, Dewey? You startled me," he said, panting like he just ran a marathon.

Dewey looked down, a little shameful, but Donald could tell he only felt a little guilty. "I was trying to see outside."

Donald honestly felt a little proud of his son, but also worried. He put his hands to his temples and tried to control his racing mind. They were getting curious. Of course they were; it was natural. But why today? He didn't want to have this conversation yet, on their birthday of all days. Besides, it was Sunday, and he was home on Sundays.

"Dewey..." Donald started. He sat down at the table, and Dewey and Louie did as well. Huey walked over and joined them. "Dewey, I know you're curious, but today, let's focus on what we have here. Okay?"

Dewey looked frustrated, but he nodded.

"Besides," Donald added. "He's home today. So, maybe sometime I can try to let you boys see the world outside... but not today."

"He takes care of us, though. Why is it so bad if he knows we're going outside?" Dewey asked.

"He takes care of us, but he doesn't... _care_ about us. He's not a good guy, boys." They all nodded. They didn't need to be convinced he wasn't a good guy; they had seen it themselves; there was a silent pact between the four of them that they wouldn't bring up what they saw.

_Every night, or most nights, Donald would put the three boys in the cabinet, where he had made a makeshift bed. Donald told them they slept there so he wouldn't get to look at them. They would sleep there until he had left for the night, and then Donald would bring them back into their two regular beds; a bed for two of the triplets, and they would take turns sleeping in the same bed as Donald. They were supposed to sleep, and sometimes, they did fall asleep; but that was only half the time. The other half, they would stay awake and listen to Donald's conversations with him._

_They remembered about a year ago, that he had come in frustrated, and talking with Donald agitatedly. Donald was shooting back angrily; they were talking about the three of them, but they couldn't remember the exact conversation. What they could remember vividly, watching through the slats in the cabinet, was the punch, and the multiple kicks that followed. They heard it more than they saw it, but it was horrifying. He left shortly after, and the three boys burst out of the cabinet to their father who was holding himself in a fetal position on the floor._

_He sat up quickly when he saw them. "You three are supposed to be asleep," he scolded. But he softened when he saw the looks on their faces. "I'm fine, boys. We just got into an... argument. Let's just all go to bed."_

_They all went to sleep that night, and in the morning Donald was walking around like nothing had happened, but the three noticed the pain he was in when he moved. They never forgot what they saw that night, but they never brought it up again with each other, either._

_Perhaps in the outside world, everyone acted that way with each other. Maybe what they saw was a normal thing. Maybe their dad was the only one who didn't do things like that. Maybe it was a normal thing; but it didn't make it any less scary.  
_

"We'll talk about this more later, okay?" Donald said; because he honestly wasn't sure what to say to his son. He wanted to get out even more than Dewey did, but he wasn't ready to explain the truth yet. Dewey simply nodded, and Donald went back to bed.

_You're a horrible person and a worse father. You love them, and you're ruining it. You've already ruined it._

Once Donald had finally fallen asleep again, which didn't take too long, Dewey groaned in frustration and basically tossed the notebook back onto its shelf. Huey was glaring at him.

"Nice going, Dewey. You put all of us in danger, and you freaked Dad out."

Dewey looked guilty. "I know... I didn't mean to make him worried, and I feel really bad about that. But I didn't know he was home today, and don't act like you're not curious too!"

"I'm _not_ curious!" Huey said angrily.

"Well then, that only makes you!" Dewey said. "Louie! You're curious, aren't you?"

They both turned to Louie. Louie looked between his two brothers, both stuck on two different extreme ideals, and there he was, stuck in the middle.

The truth was, he _was_ curious. He wanted to know what was on the outside. But he was _scared_. He didn't want to venture out of his comfort zone, and leave what he was familiar with. And they were provided for there. They weren't free, but they were taken care of. He really just wanted the best of both worlds.

"Of course I'm curious," Louie started softly. "But we can't physically leave. It's not safe for us out there."

"You mean that thing Dad told us when we were five?" Dewey asked. "Do you honestly still believe that?"

"I-" he looked between his two brothers. "I don't know," he finally said, looking down.

Because the truth was, he didn't know. The three of them had a sinking feeling get larger and larger as they grew, that Donald had lied to them, and something was wrong with their situation. The difference between the three of them was Huey downplayed those instincts as his own anxiety, Dewey had thought about those feelings maybe too much, and Louie just tried to ignore them.

However, that was getting to be impossible.

Louie finally spoke again. "Dad didn't completely shut you down, Dewey. He said we'd talk about it at a different point in time. So can we please just... focus on it on another day? A day where he's gone, and it's not our birthday?"

Dewey looked at him, disappointed. He finally sighed. "Ok. Fine. What's another couple days?" he smiled a little, but he still looked upset. All three of them were.

Huey went back to the corner to read his book, Dewey turned on the TV, and Louie sat at the table, feeling empty, and a little hopeless, too.

Donald eventually woke up and peeked over at the clock on the wall above the TV and beanbag chair, where Huey hadn't moved all day. It was 5pm; the perfect time to get dinner ready.

He got up and smiled at the three of them. "How has everyone's day been?" he asked hesitantly.

They all smiled at him and walked over to him. "It's been good!" Huey said with a spark in his eye. "I'm learning a lot about the world from the Junior Woodchuck Guidebook. It's a shame-" Huey stopped himself, and watched his uncle closely. "I mean- it's just really interesting."

Huey was getting curious about the outside world too. Huey, the most cautious and superstitious one out of the triplets. He _needed_ to get them out of there soon. He forced his smile to stay on his face. "What do you boys want for dinner?" he asked. "We've got a frozen pizza, and..." he looked through the freezer and fridge. "...that's it." he finished. "Frozen pizza it is!"

The boys cheered. "Do you need help making the cake?" Huey asked.

"No, that's alright," Donald said. "You boys just relax, dinner and cake will be ready in about an hour."

Huey, Dewey and Louie all went to the TV to watch the news and any movies that might be airing. Donald was left with his own thoughts once again as he readied the cake mix.

He thought back to the day when this new life of his started, and what he could have done differently.

_Donald had finally found a girl he loved with all of his heart; and he knew she loved him back. They hadn't yet gotten married, but they were preparing to have three children._

_"What do we want to name them?" Donald asked her._

_Daisy thought for a moment. "I'm gonna have to think about that," she giggled. "How about you take them on a walk, and I'll start making dinner. We can decide tonight." she smiled at him, and it melted his heart. It was probably the last time he felt truly happy with everything he had._

_"Okay," he said. They kissed, and Donald stored the boys safely in a stroller. He took them through the neighborhood, past a park, watching the sunset. He decided he had been out long enough, and he was impatient to get back to Daisy, so he went a different route than he had taken originally to get home sooner._

_For the rest of his life, he wished that he just took the detour.  
_

_A man approached him and his stroller. Donald was fairly familiar with him; not because he had ever interacted with him directly but because he was yet another enemy of his Uncle Scrooge; Mark Beaks._

_"Hey, Scrooge's nephew, right?" Mark asked in his typical loud fashion._

_Donald was uncomfortable, and kept walking. "Yes."_

_"How's it going, buddy?" Mark asked, throwing his arm across Donald's shoulders. A feeling of dread was growing in the pit of his stomach. Something was off with him._

_"Fine. Just trying to get home," Donald responded curtly, trying to walk faster than him, but Mark was able to keep up._

_"And are these your kids?" Mark asked, leaning over the stroller._

_"Yep. They're due pretty soon now," Donald said, gripping the stroller tighter._

_"You know, I've always wanted a family of my own," Mark Beaks said, looking at Donald with an unreadable expression on his face. Donald's heart was pounding._

_"It's never too late to have one," he said quickly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm almost to my house. I've got to discuss something with my girlfriend. I'll see you later." He tried walking past him, but Mark blocked his path._

_"Wait! I'm sure she won't miss you. How about we talk for a while?"_

_"No, I've really gotta go," Donald was saying, exasperated._

_"No, I really don't think you do," Mark was saying, his tone starting to sound more menacing. "Hey, you know who you're talking to, right? One of the richest ducks in the world? I'm just a smidge more important than you, so maybe you should be respectful when I'm trying to talk to you."_

_Donald was rendered speechless. He swallowed, and hoped Mark would stop gloating about himself soon so he could get home._

_"Anyway. I'm sure your kids are gonna be beautiful! And I heard Daisy talking about you the other day. She doesn't love you. But if you come with me," Mark had a weird gleam in his eye, "we could be a family! It's harder to start one than you think, you know. I've been trying. But if you come with me, it could be easy! Plus, I'm rich, so I can take care of the kids easily."_

_Donald felt angrier than he had in a while, and knew with a surety that Mark was lying. Donald never was super confident in himself, and doubted a lot of relationships in his life, but Daisy was genuine. He knew in his heart that they loved each other. "You're lying about Daisy," he seethed. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going home to see her."_

_Before he knew what was happening, Mark was lunging forwards with a cloth. He wrestled Donald to the ground, holding the cloth to Donald's face, muffling his cries and slowly putting him to sleep. Somehow Mark was able to pin him down no matter how hard Donald fought, and as his vision slowly faded, he reached out for the stroller, praying with everything in him that the kids would be okay._

_When we woke up, he was in the room. The eggs were there with him._

_Every day since then, Mark came in at 9pm to try to convince him to live with him in his house. The room they were currently in was a shed in his backyard._

_And every night, Donald hid his kids away from Mark, because he never wanted Mark to even look at them. Those kids were his and Daisy's, and no one else's. Mark couldn't lay claim on them._

_"Living with you would never work," Donald argued every time Mark came. "It's not like I'd be free. It'd just be a bigger prison. And wouldn't Daisy and Scrooge notice? Huh?"_

_Mark never made much sense; he was crazy, and evil, and rich. He was so desperate for a stable family, he would ruin his. And as long as Mark was alive, Donald would never get out with permission._

The pizza had finally come out of the oven, and he had finally finished icing the cake. He called the boys over, and they ate the pizza first.

"So what did you boys do while I was asleep?" Donald asked.

"Well Dewey tried to break out," Louie laughed. Dewey rolled his eyes at him. Donald chuckled a little.

"Besides that."

"Mostly we just kept to ourselves all day," Huey said. "For a birthday, this was the most uneventful day in a long time. And it was perfect."

"Yeah, we just mostly vibed," Dewey stated. Donald looked at him strangely.

"Vibed?"

"Yeah, it's a term we heard on TV the other day," Louie said. "On Ottoman Empire. Vibe is... well it's hard to explain,"

"That's fine. I don't need to know," Donald smiled. They all laughed.

They laughed and talked some more, and Donald went over to the stove where he had placed the cake for the time being. "Are you all ready?" he said. The boys cheered.

He walked slowly back to the table, singing, "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Huey, Dewey, and Louie... happy birthday to you."

He set the cake down on the table, and his sons all smiled up at him. And as he smiled back, all the emotions and guilt and depression he had felt all day came rushing back up, and he couldn't push it down anymore. He watched all their faces drop as tears finally spilled over, and he reluctantly sat down, wiping them away.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Louie asked sadly.

"Are you okay?" Dewey asked hesitantly.

Huey said nothing at first, but then quietly asked the question that had been in his mind for years. "Are you crying because of us?" he asked softly.

Donald turned to look at him. "What? What do you mean? Of course not. I want you three to know that... I am incredibly proud of you, and I love you all so much." He looked down in shame and continued to wipe away tears. "I'm just so sorry... I know I'm a horrible father, and I've never explained things to you clearly enough, and I want to fix that, but it won't undo anything. I'm so sorry you're living like this, and that you're stuck with me-"

"What? No, Dad!" Dewey said. "We love you. You're amazing. We wouldn't want to live here with anyone else."

 _That's because you've never met anyone else,_ Donald thought.

Huey added on. "Yeah! We had an amazing birthday, and we all love the presents you got us!"

"And it's okay if you haven't explained things clearly," Louie said softly. "I mean, it won't change anything about... anything. We're still the same no matter what."

Donald smiled a little, and wiped away the last of his tears. He still felt overwhelmingly sad, but he decided to focus on the affection he felt for his family. "I love you three so much," he said, wrapping them into a hug. "I'm sorry for getting emotional on your birthday and burdening you with my feelings. I think we should have a talk sometime in the next week. About... everything."

_A talk where I tell you the truth._

"You aren't burdening us at all," Huey said, smiling. "Now, let's eat cake."

They talked some more as they ate cake, and then afterwards played the new Monopoly game a couple times. Louie won every single time, much to the frustration of Huey and Dewey, but Donald felt nothing but love.

At 8:45, Donald sighed. "You boys know what it's time to do."

They all got ready for bed; brushing their teeth, using the bathroom, putting everything away. At 8:55, they all shuffled into the cupboard.

"Happy birthday boys," he said, smiling at each of them. "I'll see you all in the morning." He shut the cupboard with a soft click.

The cupboard was very small, but very comfortable. There was no personal space in there, but it's not like they had much personal space in the room, either. And it was never for the entire night, either.

They all looked at each other, and decided they would be listening in tonight. They could never exactly figure out the context of what they were talking about. They were often part of the conversation, and Donald had an obvious distaste for the man, but they weren't sure what else was going on between them. Plus, though they were extremely curious, they were scared to know the truth as well. At least, Huey and Louie were. Dewey wanted to know the truth to everything, but he wasn't as good at piecing things together like his brothers were.

A couple minutes went by, and they heard the familiar beeps of the padlock, and the whir of the heavy metal door opening. They saw the man's figure walk in. Around him, Donald only referred to him as "him" or "he" and refused to tell them his real name. Eavesdropping on his conversations though revealed to them that his name was Mark. They didn't want Donald to know that they knew his name to protect his feelings, so they never said anything.

"So, it's been ten years, huh?" Mark said when he walked in. "And you still won't come to the house?"

"Nope," Donald said curtly.

There was silence for a couple moments, before Mark looked around. "Can I see them?"

"Nope," Donald said, angrier this time, and standing up.

"Whoa, okay, easy." He said. They could see him rolling his eyes in the dim lighting. "It's not like I bite."

"No, but you drug," Donald snapped.

The boys glanced at each other. Drugged? What did he mean?

"God, that was one time," Mark said, laughing.

Donald mocked his laughter. "Yeah, it's like if you drug someone and take them away they won't trust you anymore. Crazy, huh?"

"Are you mocking me?"

"No sir," Donald said with a deadpan voice.

They could see Mark look at him angrily. He finally let out a sigh and dropped something onto the table suddenly, causing the three boys to jump.

"Here's your food for the week," he said curtly. "I'll be back tomorrow."

"Thank you so much," Donald said, and this time he actually sounded grateful.

Mark turned around, and had a sickening smile on his face that made the boys shiver. "You know, you could have more if you-"

"No."

"Fine, fine. See you tomorrow." The heavy door whooshed open, closed, and then the beeping of the padlock and the sliding of the lock in place echoed throughout the small room.

They heard their dad take a shaky breath. The boys glanced at each other, worried, and then pretended to be asleep. After a couple minutes, Donald quietly opened the cabinet door. It was Huey's turn to share the bed with him, and then tomorrow night Dewey, and then it would be Louie's turn once again. He carried one of his sons at a time to their bed, bringing Huey to his bed with him last. Everything was quiet, and Huey listened to his dad's breathing patterns become steady and regular. He tried falling asleep himself, but his mind was still racing.

Most days were filled more with meaningless clatter, but today had been different. A lot of what had happened today was making him rethink what he thought was an actual happy life. He felt guilty that he and Louie wanted to stay in the room when Dewey and his dad obviously wanted to leave.

He was both excited and nervous to see what his uncle had to say later that week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry about the long first chapter! I promise the other chapters will generally be much much shorter :)


	2. Chapter Two: Della

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's a day like any other, until Donald sees someone familiar on TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this chapter is really boring and really bad, I apologize. I've got a lot of ideas for this story, but I've got to get to them first. This chapter is closing one of those gaps, and after this, I think the story will always have something super exciting going on :)  
> At least, from my view lmao

The triplets' slowly got out of bed in their usual order; Huey woke up first and insisted on helping Donald out, Louie followed shortly after, and Dewey was snoring up until the second breakfast was ready.

Then again, breakfast never took long. They almost never had anything but cereal.

They could all easily tell their dad was in a much better mood today. Some days were better than others, they had noticed. Yesterday hadn't been a good day because he felt.. guilty. What for, though? They didn't understand. He had never done anything to them.

They were all finally sitting together at the table when he asked, "What do you all want to do today?"

Louie eyed Dewey's remote control car in the corner. "There's not that much to do..." he said in a voice that clearly meant he was working up to something. Donald, Huey and Dewey all rolled their eyes in unison.

"What is it, Louie?" Donald smiled.

"I mean, now that we have new stuff after, like, a _year_ , we should probably all share it with each other. Or else we'll get bored really quickly." he gave a side glance at Dewey and smiled mischievously.

"You're bored of your present already?" Huey asked in shock.

"Well of course not!" Louie said. "I'm just saying we should share."

" _You? Sharing?"_ Dewey asked in genuine surprise.

Louie shrugged and tried to hide a smile. He crossed his arms. "What? I'm coming from a place of love and honesty."

Huey, Dewey, and Donald all burst out laughing. Louie looked offended for a moment before he laughed with them.

"That sounds good, though." Donald said. "Maybe we start with Monopoly and then do something else with one of your gifts?"

They all nodded and smiled at their dad. Days when he was in a good mood and actively spent time with them were always great days; and those days came a lot, but there were also days when he wouldn't move from one spot in the room.

They all played several rounds of Monopoly over the next several hours. Donald had a smile on his face the whole time, and he seemed to be thinking about something, but at the same time, he was very focused and almost beat Louie a couple times. 

_Almost._ Louie was shockingly good at Monopoly, and he only lost the last time they played to Huey.

Louie looked at the board in surprise, then looked to his brother in mock betrayal. "How?! Why?!" He exclaimed.

Huey had a smug smile on his face. "Hey, I can be pretty smart with money too!"

Dewey nervously glanced at Donald. He hadn't gotten close to winning once. Donald smiled at him and laughed, and Dewey joined in.

Louie stood up after a moment. "Alright! What's next?"

Dewey jumped up and grabbed his remote control car. He brought it back to the table with a big smile on his face. "We should race! We time ourselves driving it across the room and see who gets the shortest time."

"Um, that's not gonna work, Dewey. The car can't just _go faster._ We'd all have the same time." 

"No we wouldn't! We can try different strategies." 

Huey didn't understand how different strategies would work with a remote control car, but he kept his mouth shut. 

"I'll go first!" Louie exclaimed, reaching for the remote control car, but Dewey pulled it away.

"No, it's mine, so I'll go first. Besides, I don't trust you!" Dewey looked at his brother scornfully. Louie raised his eyebrows and held up his hands, but he had a slight smirk on his face.

"Louie can go last," Dewey declared, giving Louie a look. "I'll go first, and then Dad and then Huey."

Donald smiled. "Thanks Dewey, but if you want, I don't have to play, or I can go last-"

"Nope! You'll go second," Dewey said, grinning at his dad. He grinned back even wider.

They all got into place. Huey, Dewey and Louie stood at one end of the room, Dewey preparing himself. Donald walked over to the oven to utilize the timer.

"Ready?" he yelled. Dewey nodded. "Go!"

The remote control car whirred into action, and it gained speed until it finally crashed into the bed, only a few feet away. They looked over to their dad who stopped the timer. "Four seconds."

Huey then traded place with Donald, who came over and took the remote control car from his son. "I bet I'll do worse than you," he laughed a little.

Dewey put his hand on his dad's arm sympathetically. "Probably... but that's okay!"

Donald and Louie burst out laughing. Huey rolled his eyes and smiled from across the room. "Go!" he yelled, starting the timer.

As Huey stated earlier, nothing would really change between each round. However, somehow Donald still lost. "5 seconds," Huey called over.

Donald shrugged with a smile on his face, handing off the remote to Huey as he went back to the oven. "Oh no," he said sarcastically.

Huey and Louie then proceeded to get four seconds, but Dewey insisted that he had won. "Mine was just a little bit shorter than yours," he said to his brothers. "You could tell when you were watching closely. Don't feel bad though! I'm just too experienced." He struck a dramatic pose.

Louie sighed. "Okay, Dewey."

"Besides, what were you even trying to do?" Dewey shot at his brother accusingly. "You were up to something!"

"Me? No, I just wanted to play with the car," Louie said calmly, smiling. "What, I can't just want to play with things and not have an ulterior motive? Jeez, you all have no faith in me."

"Do you need us to remind you of almost every single interaction we've ever had with you?" Huey said sarcastically. They all laughed a little. "Anyway," Huey continued in a much lighter tone. His eyes shined excitedly. "It's my turn! We can all look through the junior woodchuck guidebook together!"

Dewey and Louie glanced at each other. "Well, if you don't want to, we don't have to," Louie said. "We know you're pretty territorial about it-"

"No I"m not!" Huey shot back. "See, there you go again! Having an ulterior motive - of trying to get out of my activity!"

"No offense Huey, but we're not as into that stuff as you," Dewey said slowly, glancing between his brothers.

"Come on, boys," Donald finally cut in. "It's not like we've got anything else to do. Just give it a fair chance."

"Yes, dad," they said in unison. Huey smiled widely and grabbed his junior woodchuck guidebook from off the shelf. They all sat on the carpet in front of the TV.

Huey opened up his book. "Okay, so the book has references to the rules throughout it, but all the guidelines and rules are at the front of the book. There's a _lot_ , but I'm working on memorizing them. And then throughout the book, it has different methods to survive in the wilderness, and I know we haven't _been_ in the wilderness, and maybe never will, but it's still fun to learn about... I'm still working on memorizing all the rules, I've memorized ten to twenty of them..."

Dewey and Louie listened for a little while before zoning out, but Donald listened intently, with a content smile on his face, and that was enough for Huey to keep going. Occasionally his brothers would ask questions too, which was nice, but it was obvious they weren't paying super close attention.

After about an hour, he finally finished; his throat was dry from non-stop talking.

"I mean, that was more interesting than I thought it was going to be!" Dewey said. It didn't mean much, since it was obvious he was still bored, but at least he appreciated it a little bit; the same applied to Louie.

"It's about lunch time," Donald said, getting up. "We got some different types of food yesterday, so I'll start making us some chili. How about you boys watch some TV in the meantime?"

They all cheered, and Huey crawled up to the TV to press the button. The TV was extremely old and staticy, but they could clearly make out people and locations on screen.

They only had six channels, and they were currently tuned into the local Duckburg channel (Duckburg was the city they were told they were living in). Right now, there was an interview between a man named Flintheart Glomgold, and the news lady, whose name was Roxanne Featherly, which the boys had learned over time. They could hear Donald behind them getting out bowls and preparing to heat up the chili.

They watched for a couple more minutes. Roxanne was accusing Glomgold of something, and he seemed to get very agitated. Eventually he got up, flipped his chair, and stormed out. Louie snorted.

"I wonder what _his_ deal is," Dewey said, smiling incredulously.

There was a commercial break, and Roxanne was back again.

"We're live from McDuck manor, after a shocking find."

Huey, Dewey and Louie were all too focused on the TV to notice that the washing of dishes and the clanging of pans stopped.

"Scrooge McDuck and a collection of his family and friends have just returned after finding the lost treasure of the city of Goathool. This artifact is worth thousands of dollars and Scrooge has... shockingly... decided to donate to charity."

The camera was focused on the man they assumed was Scrooge McDuck and his friends and family. Scrooge was wearing a red robe type outfit. He was standing next to a bulkier woman in a purple suit who had her hands protectively on a younger girl's shoulders. A much taller, larger duck stood on the opposite side of them. And then on the other side of Scrooge was a duck who appeared around Donald's age. The most noticeable thing about her was her metal leg.

Behind them, they heard a bowl shatter. The triplets jumped in surprise and turned around, concerned.

They saw Donald with a broken bowl at his feet. Tears were filling his eyes as he looked at the screen with such focus, and he raised his shaking hands to his face.

"Della?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I've never played Monopoly before lol so the monopoly dialogue might be a little weird


	3. Chapter Three: The Pieces Crumble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald is faced with a moral dilemma after seeing his sister on the news. Mark Beaks adds some conflict and terror.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: abuse, threatening of abuse

"It's about lunch time," Donald said, smiling at his kids and getting up. "We got some different types of food yesterday, so I'll start making us some chili. How about you boys watch some TV in the meantime?"

They all cheered, and quickly turned on the TV. Donald walked the few feet to the kitchen, getting ready to make lunch.

He smiled a little to himself. Days like this gave him hope. There was never much hope ever, but his boys made him believe in the best of things. There weren't many good things anymore, but his boys were three of them.

He heard a slightly familiar voice on the TV and looked up. He saw Flintheart Glomgold, and his heart skipped a beat. He didn't remember seeing him on TV for the ten years he had been trapped. He had probably been on the TV a lot in that timespan, but he forgot, or wasn't watching at the time. He smiled a little. Glomgold was one of the most annoying people he had ever met, but he found himself missing even him.

He heard his boys laugh at him on the TV, and he wanted to walk over and tell them more stories about him, but he stopped himself. The more he thought about the consequences of that, and the follow up questions that would come, the anxiety grew within him. He turned back to the stove, and a couple minutes passed as he grabbed a pot and four bowls, and carried them to the table.

His heart stopped when he heard the news change, and, "We're live from McDuck manor, after a shocking find."

He felt sweat build on his forehead, and he tried to focus on getting lunch ready. Unlike Glomgold, he had seen Scrooge on the news several times over the years, as had the kids (though he didn't have any significance to them). After all, he was the richest duck in the world and an avid adventurer. Every time Donald saw him on the news, his heart broke further. He tried to ignore it every time, because there would be nothing he would be able to do, but he always found himself listening intently anyway.

He stopped on his way to the table and looked up, even though part of him didn't want to.

"Scrooge McDuck and a collection of his family and friends have just returned after finding the lost treasure of the city of Goathool. This artifact is worth thousands of dollars and Scrooge has... shockingly... decided to donate to charity."

Charity? That was new. The Scrooge he knew would never have donated to charity. Why would he do that? Did it have something to do with him? He felt his grip tighten on the bowl he was holding.

He looked at the five people on the screen behind Roxanne Featherly. Scrooge was standing there confidently, looking the same as he remembered. He noticed Mrs. Beakley and Launchpad, who had both noticeably aged since he saw them in person such a long time ago, but they still looked good.

And although he had never seen her before, he could instantly tell the young girl was Mrs. Beakley's granddaughter. He didn't know her name, but Mrs. Beakley had often talked with him about her granddaughter and his kids. They were being born around the same time, and they were both very excited; it was going to be amazing that the kids would have a friend close to the family... until that plan, along with every other one he had for his life with Daisy, fell apart.

His eyes finally shifted to the woman next to Scrooge. His eyes instantly flooded with tears, his chest tightened, his grip on the bowl completely loosened. It fell to the floor and shattered.

_Della._

"Della?" he called out hesitantly.

He saw his kid's concerned looks out of the corner of his eye, but he barely registered them. He clambered over the ratty mat they had on the floor as a replacement for a couch, and got as close to the TV as he could without hurting his eyes. And he registered _everything_.

Roxanne was still talking about the details of the adventure, but he didn't focus on her. He was looking solely at Della. She had a metal leg - _why_ did she have a metal leg? What happened to her that would warrant her having a metal leg? What happened to her, in general? When had she come back? How long had she been back while he had been gone? _Where was Daisy as well?_

And what was the charity? Roxanne probably stated what it was, but he was distracted by his sister, and it was too late to know now. Did it have anything to do with him?

He immediately started to feel guilty, and soon after, more intrusive thoughts followed.

_Like Scrooge would ever put work into finding you like he did for Della._

_Maybe the charity doesn't concern you. It has nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her._

"...we hope to see more charitable acts like this from Scrooge McDuck and his family in the future," Roxanne said, concluding the news report. "And now, for the weather."

Donald felt his hands clench into fists. "Come back," he said hoarsely.

"Dad?" Dewey said in his ear. He hadn't noticed they shifted up close to him. Donald sighed, putting his head in his hands and rubbing his forehead. His head was killing him all of a sudden.

_Don't let them know anything. That was probably terrifying for them. You're scaring them, and that's the exact opposite of what you want to do. I'll tell them, but not yet. Not now._

He slowly set his face back to default, showing no emotion, even though everything inside him wanted to scream as loud as he could. He gave a tight smile to his kids.

"Sorry. I just felt a little sick." He slowly got up, and went back to the kitchen. "Uh, Huey? Could you continue making the chili for me? I have to sweep up the glass shards."

He noticed Huey give a nervous glance to his brothers. "Sure, dad." he said, crossing around him and coming over on the other side to avoid the glass. Donald bent down and swept the shards into a dustpan. The sharp pain in his chest was getting worse and worse until it almost felt numb.

When he was done sweeping every bit up, he dumped it into the trash can, and went back to the chili. "Thank you, Huey," he said softly. Huey went back to join his brothers, who were all sitting in front of the TV. They had turned it off, however, and were sitting there, glancing at their dad nervously.

_Great job, Donald. You scared them after all. Everything you've tried to do has been for nothing; you've ruined it. They're scared of you now._

The chili was finally done, and he poured an equal amount into three separate bowls.

Donald sat down with his kids at the table, and handed out their lunch, but they noticed him empty-handed. "Dad, you can get another bowl out if you want... we have more," Louie said quietly.

Donald shrugged and tried to put on another smile, even though it almost physically hurt. "I don't want to have to risk dropping another one," he said halfheartedly. "Besides, I'm not that hungry anyways."

They glanced at him again, but turned back to their bowls and slowly ate. Donald watched them sadly; usually he'd be thinking about everything he could have had, but today his mind was solely on Della.

 _Della._ What had happened to her? When did she get back? She was smiling on the TV report; she seemed _okay_. But did she know about him? Did she even _care_?

He was supporting his head with his hands, and before he could catch up with his thoughts, his boys were done with their lunch. Donald collected the bowls and put them in the sink; he didn't have the energy to wash them yet.

"So... what do we want to do for this afternoon?" Dewey said hopefully.

Donald couldn't find it within himself to do anything right then - maybe with how bad he was feeling now, never again.

"I'm sorry, boys, but I think I'm gonna get some extra sleep. I'm feeling pretty drained."

Huey looked like he wanted to ask something, but he kept his mouth shut. That made Donald feel even worse. He wanted to say something else, something that would make them stop looking so _worried_ and help them focus on something other than him, because he didn't deserve the attention, nor did he want it. But his mind was coming up blank, and he couldn't think of anything to say that would make his behavior okay, so he just kept his mouth shut, and wrapped himself in blankets. Which, in turn, made him feel worse again.

 _You're poisoning them. They look up to you, and you're foiling it. You were all having a great day and everything is ruined now. They'd be better off without you. If we ever get out of here, I'm gonna do so much better. Or maybe, somebody else will._ _Scrooge, or Daisy, or even Della... they'd be amazing parents. They deserve these kids, and I deserve nothing. None of them at all.  
_

They waited a couple minutes until they heard Donald's breathing go into a normal pattern. When they finally heard that he was asleep, Louie turned to his brothers. "What the _heck_ was that about?" he whisper shouted.

Huey sighed, exasperated. "I don't know! It was definitely something he saw on TV... but what?"

"Did you guys hear him say 'come back?' What did he mean?" Dewey added nervously.

"I don't know!" Huey exclaimed. All of them felt panic rising in their chest. "Okay, we just need to figure out what made Dad freak out so we can help him fix it. What was on screen at the time?"

"It was just that one guy's family..." Louie said, shrugging. "What was his name? Scrooge?"

"Don't forget the news lady!" Dewey said. "She was on screen too; it could have been her."

"Yeah, but she's been on the TV before," Huey responded. "Roxanne has been the newscaster for as long as I remember, and dad hasn't ever had an extreme of a reaction to her."

"Maybe it's because he was reacting _quietly_ ," Dewey said. "He's hid a lot from us after all, and maybe he just got overwhelmed this time."

Huey didn't know what to say. He didn't like to think about all the things he didn't know.

"Yeah, and to add onto what Dewey's saying, it doesn't make sense for him to have such a strong reaction for Scrooge either. He's been on the news before," Louie said.

Huey and Dewey turned to Louie, surprised. "Wait, he has?"

Louie shrugged. He had a talent for remembering things. "Yeah, I mean... not as often as Roxanne or anything, but... I think they've referred to him as the 'richest duck in the world,' so it would make sense that he's on the news a lot."

"Maybe Donald just never noticed him before?" Dewey wondered.

Louie shrugged, unconvinced. He had a feeling there was more to it than that, but he had no idea where to start. "Yeah, it's possible," he said.

Huey glanced back at the TV as if it was still on. "What about the other people? Have they been on TV before as well? Maybe it was one of them?"

Louie looked sad again. "I can't remember. I only remember Scrooge, cause they really only mentioned him by name anyway, and he's the richest duck in the world after all... which is enough for me to pay attention." They all chuckled a little bit.

"Let's say it was someone else," Dewey said, recounting. "There was one woman and one bigger guy who looked like they were about dad's age, a woman who looked _way_ older than him, a girl our age, and... Scrooge." He looked blankly at his brothers and sighed. "I have no idea."

Huey sighed. "That's okay, Dewey. I guess we figured a _little_ bit of stuff out."

"Do you think we should ask him? When he wakes up?"

" _No_." Dewey was surprised to hear Louie's voice instead of Huey's. "Not today, at least. I don't think I'm ready yet... if there even _is_ anything important going on. Maybe dad really is just sick, and that's all there is to it."

Huey sheepishly smiled at Dewey. "I second that."

Dewey couldn't help but feel frustrated. He _knew_ there was so much more going on, and he wished he had answers. But, if it was for his brothers, he could wait a couple more days. "Okay," he gave in.

The rest of the day passed quietly. The boys spent it together, finding different things to do; tell each other stories, take a nap in the corner, play a game of Monopoly quietly. Whatever they did, Donald continued to sleep deeply, and the TV remained off. They didn't want to risk turning it back on after what happened at lunch.

It was late afternoon when the boys realized Donald probably wasn't going to wake up to make them dinner. Huey was pretty competent at making food, but he refused to do it alone today.

"I'm gonna teach you guys how to put stuff in the _oven_ ," he said, pulling out a TV dinner lasagna. "It's super easy, guys. You don't have anything to be afraid of."

"Yeah, except for the fact that the oven is a bajillion degrees," Louie stated sarcastically.

"Yeah, Huey," Dewey smiled that snarky smile he had when he was trying to get his brothers to do something for him. "You're already around to take care of us. We don't _have_ to learn it."

"Well sometimes, I don't _feel_ like taking care of you guys. It's an important skill to learn to at least know the basics of what you're doing in a kitchen," Huey huffed. He showed his brothers how to preheat the oven, and began to unwrap the lasagna.

They talked about random things for a couple minutes until the oven beeped. Dewey and Louie looked at each other in fear, and Huey laughed. "Relax, guys."

"Well who's gonna do it?" Louie crossed his arms. "Dewey and I can't just toss the lasagna in together, it's a one person job."

"I nominate Louie!" Dewey shouted out.

"Nope; Dewey, how about you do it? And then Louie can do it tomorrow," Huey smiled smugly.

Louie sighed. "Ho boy."

Dewey whined nervously and picked up the lasagna. Huey smiled encouragingly at him. "Dewey, it's honestly fine. Just set it down quickly."

"Okay..." Dewey said. He approached the oven slowly like it was a sleeping beast. Huey opened the oven and Louie watched from behind.

"Steady... steady..." Dewey muttered. He inched it closer and closer to the rack shelf in the oven, then all at once yelped. "Nope, too nervous!" He swung the lasagna into the oven and it clattered loudly.

They all just stared at it for a second, until Louie burst out laughing.

"Dewey!" Huey said, but he was laughing too as he closed the oven, and soon they could all barely breathe.

"Task failed successfully," Louie said, still trying to calm down.

There was about another half an hour until the lasagna was ready. Usually at this time, they would watch TV, but they still didn't feel brave enough to turn it on. Louie took a nap in the corner, Huey read one of the books on the shelf for the thousandth time, and Dewey stared at the ceiling, once again daydreaming about the world outside, and what it might be like, and _who was on the TV that made Donald react that way._

He didn't get very close to a conclusion regarding his thoughts, however. He knew that his brothers didn't want to talk about it, but did they not wonder? Did they not have questions? Was he not allowed to be curious?

He knew his dad didn't want to talk about it either, but his curiosity was growing every day, and one of these days, he would burst and he would _have_ to ask.

The lasagna eventually finished, and Huey coaxed Dewey to get it out of the oven as well. Dewey grabbed a towel so he could grab it without being burned, and it made him more confident regarding the oven. They got out the dishes, and went to wake Donald.

In unison, they all tapped him lightly on the shoulder. After a moment, he grumbled and rubbed his eyes.

Louie smiled. "Dad, we made lasagna! Or... we tried to. Dewey basically threw it like a Frisbee into the oven, so... it's a little messy," he laughed.

Donald sat up slowly, still rubbing his eyes. "Wait... it's dinnertime?"

Dewey nodded. "Yeah, you slept most of the day," he shrugged, smiling a little.

At this point, Donald stood all the way up, seemingly wide awake now. "No no no..." he muttered, rushing over to the table where the boys had set out the lasagna in the center. He face palmed, clearly upset. "Boys, I'm so sorry... you could've woken me up! I could've made dinner!"

Huey shook his head. "No, it's fine! They needed to learn how to use the oven anyway."

Donald still looked distressed. "No, but you kids shouldn't _have_ to make dinner for yourselves." His voice was thin. "I'll be better in the future, I promise. It won't happen again."

"No, dad, you were tired, and you needed to rest!" Dewey said. "It's fine!"

"Yeah, it was good for us," Louie nodded.

"You take care of us, so let us take care of you," Huey added.

Donald seemed noticeably calmer, but obviously not convinced. "Okay," he said in defeat, and sat down. "How was your day?" he asked quietly. His voice was tinged with guilt.

"Well, like Louie said, I spectacularly put the lasagna in the oven," Dewey bragged. "But today was pretty chill! We just sat around and found random things to do."

"Louie's gonna try tomorrow," Huey said. He speared a piece of lasagna and consumed it quickly.

Donald smiled a tiny bit. "Sorry I didn't get you boys to do that earlier either... I can help with that tomorrow..."

"Awesome!" Louie said. "Maybe you can do it for me?"

They all laughed. "Definitely not," Donald smirked. He seemed much more relaxed now.

They all talked like normal at dinner, but there was a noticeable tension now. There were unasked questions in the air. Theories were rising in the triplet's mind, and Donald's anxiety with every passing second was getting worse.

_When would this reality change?_

They sometimes watched TV after dinner, but Donald made no invitation to turn it on, and the triplets didn't bring it up. They all found different projects around the room to do separately until it was time for them to go to bed. They changed into their old, ratty pajamas, brushed their teeth, and climbed into the cupboard.

"I love you boys," Donald said to them as they settled in. "Sleep well, okay?"

"We love you too, dad," they all said as the door swung shut.

None of the triplets were really tired, so they stayed awake and waited for Mark to come. The only sound was their collective breathing, and the ticking of a clock somewhere in the room. Through the slats, they could see Donald sitting at the kitchen table, his head in his hands. He looked _exhausted_.

He didn't come right at nine; this wasn't uncommon, but usually he was only late by three to five minutes. He was gone for at least ten minutes this time.

They could see Donald glancing at the clock, and sighing. The triplets were just about to give up and go to sleep when they heard the beeping of the padlock door. They all flinched, but Donald didn't move a muscle.

They flinched even harder when Mark came in quickly, clearly agitated, throwing the door closed behind him. Donald was instantly awake and standing up.

"The company..." Mark seethed, "is screwed."

The words didn't mean anything to the kids, but Donald leaned forward and said loudly, _"What_ _?"_

"A huge deal fell through," Mark said, pulling out a chair, and collapsing into it. "The company's going to lose millions of dollars."

Donald was more alert than they had seem him in all day, or in a long time. "So, what, you're gonna have to find another job? How long is that gonna take?"

" _No,_ Donald, I'm not gonna have to find another job, god. We're just gonna be super tight on money, for... a while," he groaned.

"I don't understand," Donald said. "You said the company was screwed."

"Well, I was _exaggerating_. Obviously." They saw Mark shake his head through the slats.

"I didn't know that." Donald's voice was tight. "And," he laughed sarcastically. "If you haven't noticed, we kind of rely on you here. You're still going to have to provide for us, you know."

Mark scoffed. "Please, you'll all be fine."

"Are you sure? Because this situation doesn't sound _fine_ at all. It's not just your problem, Mark, it's ours too, and you have to get it together or else _we're_ in trouble too."

"God, you're all gonna be fine, Donald!" Mark said, standing up. "And in case you haven't noticed, I've been providing for you all for ten _years_. So maybe instead of bitching about the future, a thank you would be nice?"

"A _thank you?_ " Donald said in disbelief. "For _this?_ You're out of your mind! There's nothing here I should thank you for!"

"And yet, here you still are, begging for me to continue providing for you," Mark shot back. Their voices were rising in volume. "You're not thankful for any of the things I've gotten you over the years? Yet you choose to ask me for help? Or are you choosing to ignore that?"

"Yeah, I am choosing to ignore that, because I wouldn't have needed _ANY OF THIS OTHERWISE_!"Donald yelled. "Everything you've provided for us is a basic necessity to _survive_. We're barely even living."

"You never had to stay in here!" Mark yelled. "I have given you the option to leave _every damn day,_ and you say no _every time_. That's not my fault! That's _yours_. And even after all these years of taking care of you and our family-"

" _My_ family." Donald said it quietly, but the tone of voice was terrifying.

"Whatever - after all these years, I _still_ haven't seen the kids once! Maybe I shouldn't provide for you if you keep hiding them! Don't I deserve to see them? After all, I own... all of this. I own this shed, the bed, you, the kids-"

 _"YOU DON'T OWN ME AND YOU DON'T OWN THEM,"_ Donald suddenly screamed in his face. _"YOU DON'T OWN THEM AND YOU WILL NEVER OWN THEM-"_

 _"IF YOU KEEP SHOUTING IN MY FACE I'M GONNA PUT YOU ALL OUT OF YOUR MISERY,"_ They all heard Mark's voice shout back, and then they heard a loud slap. The room was suddenly deathly silent. The triplets looked at each other, terrified. They couldn't stop shaking, and they huddled together.

After several moments, Mark nervously laughed. "Sorry. I didn't mean that. I got frustrated." He took a deep breath. "Know your place, Donald. I'm in charge of you all. So. Which is it today? The house, or the shed?"

After a couple seconds, Donald responded hoarsely, "The shed."

"Alright then," Mark breathed out, and headed back towards the door. "See you all tomorrow?"

"Yes sir."

Mark entered the code, and slowly slid out of the room. When the door finally closed, all was still.

Donald stood rooted in the same spot for a moment, looking so empty. He finally walked back over to the cupboard, and opened the door. The boys didn't even try to pretend they were asleep.

Donald looked at them sadly. "Boys..." he said.

Tears started rolling down their faces in unison. Donald led them all to his bed, where they sat and hugged for several minutes, trying to calm down.

"What did he mean?" Louie finally cried. "Is he gonna kill us? Is he gonna kill _you_?"

"No, no!" Donald said, wrapping his arms around them tighter. "Listen, I know what you heard sounded nasty, but I promise he would never _ever_ do anything like that. He talks big, but the truth is, he..." Donald sighed. "He cares about us. I know I said he doesn't, but he does in his own, twisted way."

"So he didn't mean any of it?" Huey asked for extra clarification.

Donald smiled at him. "I promise. You all are completely safe, especially with me around."

"Didn't he hit you?" Louie asked, looking up at him.

Donald hesitated. "...Yeah. Yeah, he did. And I want you kids to know that physical violence is _never_ okay. That was a mistake on his part. But I'm sure he feels bad about it now, and he's not gonna do it again, especially to any of you. And I know it was scary sounding, but people fight. I promise it's normal. It was just a little worse of a fight than usual, but everything's fine now."

"We're not idiots, dad," Dewey finally butted in. "We know there's more going on."

No one said anything for a long moment until Donald sighed. "Let's talk about it in the morning, okay? We're all exhausted."

They all muttered agreements. Donald crawled onto the side of the bed against the wall, and Huey and Louie walked to the other bed adjacent. Dewey crawled under the covers next to Donald and tried his best to fall asleep.

After a couple moments, Dewey felt a strange vibration. He glanced over, and found that Donald was physically shaking. He probably wasn't aware of how violently he was, but it nearly rocked the whole bed. Dewey was shaking a bit as well, but it was a thousand times worse for Donald. His heart broke a little, and a few more tears leaked out from his eyes. But he refused to wait any longer to ask. This was a wake up call. They _had_ to talk about this.

All the triplets woke up fairly early that morning. They all poured themselves cereal, and sat in a line at the table.

They were all silent for a moment until Dewey finally whispered, "I'm bringing it up when Donald wakes up."

Huey turned to him. " _What_?"

"We can't wait any longer," he hissed. "There are more and more questions being raised, and things are honestly starting to get dangerous. We _deserve_ to know the truth."

"Dewey's right," Louie said. They both turned to look at him.

Louie looked down at his hands, tugging the ends of his hoodie sleeves nervously. "Look, Huey, I'm as scared of the outside as you are. But I'm also as curious about it as Dewey. And... right now, it's honestly seeming safer than in here." he looked up. "I think we've waited long enough."

Huey looked between his brothers for a moment, and finally, he sighed. "No... I know you guys are right, I'm just... scared of what we don't know." He took a deep breath. "Alright. We'll ask him when he wakes up."

They all nodded in agreement. Donald wouldn't brush the subject off again.

Donald finally opened his eyes at around 10:30 am. The kids were sitting around the table playing a game of Monopoly.

As he slowly got up, they immediately noticed and ditched the game.

"Dad, we-" Dewey started

"Hey, kids," Donald said, smiling. _Maybe smiling will help them feel less scared_. "How are you feeling after last night?"

Huey spoke up. "Good. We-"

"Are you sure?" Donald said again. "Cause... I want you kids to know I'm never gonna leave you unsafe. You're gonna be safe, _always_. I promise you. Is there anything you boys would like to do today, to get your mind off of it?"

"We need you to tell us everything," Louie finally blurted out.

Donald blinked, his heart rate picking up. "Everything?" he said softly.

"Everything. Why we're here, why you're here, who Mark is," Huey said.

Hearing them say his actual name felt like a stab in the chest. _Of course they know his name. They heard everything last night. They've probably eavesdropped on multiple occasions._ Donald sat down in the beanbag chair in front of the TV, processing.

"Sorry to spring this on you so suddenly," Dewey said as they came over. "But I feel like we're old enough to know the truth. All of it."

"Please," Louie added. Though he was trying to sound genuine, his smile made it seem sarcastic; but that was Louie for you.

Donald chuckled dryly. "Yeah... no, you kids are exactly right. It's time I tell you everything, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. It's just... I don't even know where to start..."

The boys sat down and cuddled up to their dad. "Take your time," Huey encouraged.

Donald was silent for a couple moments, deep in thought. Part of him wanted to dodge the question again, but every time he did that, the guilt piled on more. It was a defense mechanism, and he hated himself for it. Everything in him was fighting it as he built up the courage to start talking. He was terrified of what his kid's reactions might be, but it was finally time to tell them the truth.

 _Here we go._ _Time for their worldview to change.  
_

"Okay..." he finally said out loud. "I'll start at the beginning of my life."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter will be verryy informative!! :)
> 
> ty all for reading to this point!! ily


	4. Chapter Four: The Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donald's entire background is finally revealed to his kids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: mentions of abuse (strangulation)

"So... growing up, me and my twin sister Della caused a lot of trouble..."

The triplet's eyes widened. Right, that was the name Donald called out. Within a sentence of the story, they already had so much more information than they previously did.

"...our parents couldn't really keep up with us. We sent our dad to the hospital more than once." Donald smiled. "The first time was when we were seven or eight, and we set a firecracker under our dad's chair. While our mom was taking him to the hospital, she dropped us off at our uncle's work..." he hesitated; he wasn't sure what their reactions would be to this next part. "Uncle Scrooge."

" _Uncle_ Scrooge?!" Louie exclaimed, jumping up. "The richest duck in the world... is your _uncle?"_

"Not to mention one of the most famous adventurers ever?" Dewey said, jumping up as well. "At least, that's what Louie told me."

Donald smiled, a little overwhelmed. "Yeah... he's my uncle... he's a little selfish, if I'm being honest. He has more money than most of Duckburg, and he hoards it all for himself, refusing to help anyone out."

There was a tiny stab in Donald's chest. _At least, he did. But apparently he's donating to charities now.  
_

"He's pretty rough around the edges, too, when you first meet him. It took him a little bit to get warmed up to us, but..." Donald chuckled. "That first adventure with him was one of the best days of my life."

"What happened?" Huey asked.

"Well, he had to go find an artifact... I can't even remember what it was anymore... but I remember the journey there. Della landed a plane, and I launched hundreds of feet into the air, and..." he trailed off. "It was an amazing adventure, and it was the first of many; Scrooge started to like us, and we started to like him, and we ended up visiting him more and more often, until..."

Donald swallowed. "After a couple years of back and forth, our parents got really sick... I can barely remember their goodbyes to us, and I hate myself for it."

_They're not allowed to know that you hate yourself._

He continued on: "Anyway, they were both lying side by side in the hospital when we left with Scrooge, and that was the last time we saw them alive. We went to the funeral of course, but..." he sighed. "Yeah."

"Oh..." Huey said. "Dad, I'm sorry..."

"Yeah, I can't imagine..." Louie added.

Donald waved them away. "No, no. It's okay! I miss them of course, but Della and I always had each other, and we had Uncle Scrooge, too. And we went on more and more adventures.

"I was never actually that _great_ at them. They were fun, and I loved doing them and spending time with my family, but... Della and Scrooge were the ones that actually succeeded in doing anything," Donald laughed. "We were home schooled; we learned a lot from his library, but most of our learning came from our experiences."

The triplets were completely entranced in the story, and Donald wanted to hug them just for being there. He felt so much guilt about not telling them sooner, but then he recalled the later parts of the story and remembered why he put it off for so long.

"Eventually, we turned eighteen, and we moved away from home for a couple years. I went to college, and Della joined the Navy. Scrooge adventured sometimes when we were gone, but I think it wasn't the same for him without us."

_No, it wasn't the same for him without Della._

He shook the thought away and continued talking. "After we were both done with that, we were able to reunite with Scrooge and live in the mansion again. I don't know what happened to Della in the navy, but she refused to eat or even talk about a fish ever again," Donald laughed. "But she made one of her best friends in the Navy, Selene!" He sighed. "She's a goddess."

Louie perked up. "Oooo, does dad have a crush?"

Donald looked over at him. "Hm? Oh no, I meant she's an actual goddess, of the moon."

All of the triplet's jaws nearly fell to the floor. "And that's... just... a normal thing in the world?" Huey asked in disbelief.

Donald laughed. "Kind of? For most people it's not normal, but my - our- family has never really been normal." Donald sighed in content. "The world out there is _amazing_."

Donald saw Dewey's eyes narrow out of the corner of his eye, as if he was trying to piece something together. He pretended not to see, but his heart started pounding.

"What else is out there in the world? Like, what were your favorite things?" Huey asked in wonder.

Donald really didn't want to go off on this tangent, not with the way Dewey was staring at him, but he couldn't avoid any more questions, not after he had avoided them for so many years. He smiled nervously. "So many things. Um...of course the adventures were amazing, but ordinary everyday things too! Like... like cars, or tall buildings with elevators, and theme parks, and the pier, and-" Donald gasped and smiled. "Rain! Rain was my favorite thing in the world," he sighed. "It always was, but I grew to love it even more, because that's how I met your-"

"Hey hey hey hey!" Louie put his hands over his ears. "No spoilers!"

Donald's face flushed. "Right!" He chuckled. "Sorry."

He stole a look at Dewey to see if his expression was back to normal, but his eyes had narrowed even more, and now he was almost glaring at his dad. He looked away quickly, shame welling up in him. Of course he was mad; he should have just told them everything sooner.

"I would really love to feel the rain," Dewey spoke up, sounding sad yet accusing. "It's too bad we can't go outside."

No one knew what to say in response. Louie looked as uncomfortable as Donald felt. They were all quiet for a couple seconds before Huey turned to his dad. "So, while your sister was in the navy... what did you do in college?"

Donald was happy to move away from the awkward tension, and once he realized what Louie was asking, he grinned. "I was in a band," he said smugly.

He saw Dewey's eyes widen. "Really?" he asked excitedly.

Donald felt relief that Dewey got distracted from his anger, which only made him feel worse; he _deserved_ to be angry. He hid his inner emotions and smiled at his son. "Yep! I like to think we were pretty good," he chuckled. "We disbanded after college, but we never stopped being friends."

José and Panchito... It was true, they never stopped being friends. But after college, their lives got busy, especially his. After what happened with Della... he almost lost touch with them, and of course, after _this_ whole living situation, he lost touch with them completely. He wondered if they knew he was gone, or if they were just too busy to find out what happened to him these past few years.

"So Della and I were both home with Scrooge again, and we continued to go on more and more adventures. We actually... almost went everywhere that we knew of to adventure," Donald said nervously. "And then Della had an idea... she wanted to go to space together."

"Space?" Huey said in disbelief.

Donald nodded. "Space! Scrooge was completely on board to go, and honestly... so was I. Of course I was nervous, but I loved them and I loved adventuring, and I didn't want to miss out. We were just going to take a quick trip; a weekend at most."

Donald paused; these were the parts he didn't want to tell.

"What happened?" Louie asked, sensing something was wrong.

Donald's mouth didn't want to open, but he forced it to, and he forced the words out: "A couple days before we planned to leave, Della disappeared. She went out to the store one night, probably to get something for the trip, and she never came back." he sighed, and the triplets shifted in their seats uncomfortably. His sigh sounded so heavy.

"Anyway, the police thought she might have ran away," Donald continued. "Maybe the pressure of going to space got to her, and she couldn't take it. But they didn't know Della like I did... she wouldn't have ever run away from adventure, or her family... and even if she did get overwhelmed and decide not to go, we would never have forced her. She wasn't on any security cameras at any stores, either; if she was running away, she would've needed to buy things to do so."

Donald stopped and looked at his kids for a moment. They looked sad as well, even though they hadn't met her.

"But... she's back," Huey said softly. "That was her on TV."

Donald felt tears coming to his eyes, but he pushed them down. "Yeah. And I don't know how, or why, or where she went, or how long she's been back for. But she's back."

_I would give anything just to talk to her._

He couldn't even remember the last conversation he had with his sister, and he hated that he couldn't. It probably wasn't very memorable. Maybe she told him she was headed out to buy some food, and he told her to be back soon, and they exchanged some kind of snarky comment or inside joke. But whatever it was, he forgot.

The only sound left in the room was a ticking clock. That was one heavy blow to the story, and there was still more to tell.

"So how'd we end up here?" Dewey finally asked.

Donald cleared his throat. "Right. Well, we never ended up going to space. The rocket was disposed of. Scrooge refused to believe she was gone for the longest time. He was in denial. He kept taking me on adventures within the city, he took me on trips that was basically detective work to find her, he would try anything and everything he thought would help us find a clue to where Della was. I lost hope pretty fast, but Scrooge was stubborn. I think a couple weeks passed until it finally hit him that she was gone, and it..."

_I really want to stop._

"It him him really really hard. He would barely come out of his room, he would sleep all day, he looked like he wasn't even _there_ a lot of the time."

"Kind of like you?" Louie said, before his eyes widened and he shook his head. "That sounded rude. I mean, is it like a trait that's passed down? Is it just a sort of thing that runs in our family? That we get tired and sad really easily?"

Donald wasn't sure what to say. _Kind of like you._ _Exactly like him._ He was exactly like Scrooge at his lowest, and he despised himself for it. Of course he never hated Scrooge; he loved his uncle and wanted them both to be happy again during that time. He would never resent him for going through that. But when it came to himself, that was different. Their situations and responsibilities were too different to compare.

"I'm not sure..." he finally said. "Probably a little bit, so we have to be careful and look after ourselves." The triplets nodded, and he continued with his story.

"Anyway, I made him food a lot, talked to him, you know. I looked after him. I missed him. And it was a really gradual thing, but Scrooge eventually started to act like himself again. And I did too; we both went through a lot. I remember one day, he came downstairs, and he asked if I wanted to go on an adventure again, and it was... amazing, to hear him say something like that. We got there, and it was really weird and scary without Della, but it was so _refreshing_."

Donald had a small smile on his face. "We didn't go that often; it hurt to adventure without her, and Scrooge got busy with his job. But once every couple months, it was nice to feel like life was as it had always been."

"So what did you do otherwise?" Louie asked.

"I... didn't really do anything? I was unemployed; I mostly just sat around the house keeping busy. I kept it together for Scrooge most of the time, but deep down I was just as broken as he was. He was starting to heal, and I didn't feel like I was. And I know it's a little weird, but rain always made me feel better, so... I went outside and just took a walk in the rain whenever I could. I liked visiting the pier, too. Something about it was just peaceful to me.

"About a year after Della went missing, I remember it rained one day, so I went out. And I walked around Duckburg, trying to calm myself down, because I was really upset about her that day. And I sat down on a bench and just... let it all out, really."

At the time, he felt embarrassed about crying in public at first, but he was grateful for it later, and what it led to.

"And then I saw a woman notice me several feet away; she had a large pink raincoat on, and she was struggling with tons of groceries. She set them all down on a table under a tree and came to talk to me." Donald's dreamy smile gave him away, and the triplet's were starting to realize who this was. They smiled at each other as well.

"She noticed I was upset, and she came to talk to me. I tried to wave her away quickly, cause I didn't feel like being bothered, but she kept talking to me, and I started opening up to her, and the rain eventually went away, and I didn't even mind the sun that much."

The triplets had huge smiles on their faces, and frankly so did Donald. He remembered how he kept trying to wave her away, telling her that he was fine, but she was insistent that she wouldn't leave until she was sure he was okay.

He remembered how he vented about all that happened, and how he felt so massively guilty about doing so, but she listened intently, gave him reassurance, promised she had nowhere to be. And something changed for Donald that day; the healing he had been looking for stemmed from her.

"After maybe an hour of talking, she finally admitted she had to get her groceries home, but I didn't want to stop talking to her, so I offered to help her carry them to her house. And when we got there, we ended up talking for several more hours, until we finally agreed to go out on a date."

"What was her name?" Dewey asked.

"Oh! Daisy Duck," he said, closing his eyes and trying to imagine her. "Your boys' mother."

"What's she like? What did she do?" Huey asked.

"She was a fashion designer; mostly dresses, but she occasionally made other stuff too; everything she made was amazing. She put a smile on everyone's face. She was kind to everybody, but she knew when to stick up for herself too. Very stubborn, but very responsible, smart and hard-working." Their first dinner was a simple dinner at a restaurant, but it was one of the best nights of his life. "We fell in love fast and hard. Everybody loved her.

"Meanwhile, Scrooge hired some new people to work for him. Mrs. Beakley, who he knew from... somewhere, to be his housekeeper, and Launchpad, who became his new pilot and driver. Scrooge consulted me before hiring him, and we were both skeptical; we really didn't want to hire somebody to replace any part of Della, but he needed somebody for the job. Soon we found it was impossible to hate him. He's one of the nicest people I've ever met."

He wondered how they were doing now. On the news it appeared that they were still working for him, even after eleven years. They must have changed and grown a lot.

"The five of us actually gathered quite a lot; there were dinners pretty frequently, and Scrooge adored Daisy. I think it helped him miss Della a little less, seeing me with someone perfect for me."

The triplets had big, almost nostalgic smiles on their faces, and Donald wanted to hug them.

He remembered after dinner one night, Scrooge pulled him into a room to be alone, and when he turned around to look at his nephew, there were tears in his eyes; he had the widest smile on his face as he told his nephew how proud he was of him. It was a nice memory of course, but he wasn't sure it was true anymore.

An intense lump was forming in Donald's throat. Dredging up these old memories made him miss his old life even more than usual.

"After a couple months, Daisy and I found our own house. It was small, but it was ours. And it wasn't far from Scrooge's mansion; it was in a neighborhood right next to the hill it was on. We could walk to the house whenever we wanted. " he paused. "I asked Scrooge beforehand if he would be okay, and he hugged me and assured me he would be."

_"Do whatever makes you happy. I'm always going to support you, no matter what; I'm here for you through anything."  
_

_I'm sorry you couldn't keep that promise._

So we lived there for a couple months, obviously keeping in close contact with everyone, when..." Donald looked lovingly at his kids. "We ended up with three eggs."

The triplets' smiles were huge.

"At the same time," Donald added. "Mrs. Beakley was getting ready to have a granddaughter. We were both so excited for you all to meet each other. I'm not sure what her name is, or when exactly she was born, or if her parents are in the picture..." he muttered the next part, "She seemed to be living in the mansion when I saw her on the news..." he spoke louder again, "but it is just the news. I don't know much about her, but I... I really hope you guys can meet her one day."

The triplet's smiles had faded, and Dewey looked angry again. Donald looked away and sighed.

"Anyway, eggs take a long time to hatch, but about a week before you were born..." Donald steeled himself. "I went out on a walk.

"It was cloudy, but it wasn't rainy; Daisy and I were getting ready to decide on names for you boys. So she stayed home to make dinner, and then I took you all on a walk, and..." Donald's breathing was getting faster. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, preparing himself to get into the worst stuff.

Dewey's eyebrows creased, and Huey and Louie were looking increasingly concerned. "Should we take a break?" Dewey suggested nervously. "We've learned a lot already, and we can continue after we eat if you want..."

"No, it's okay," Donald shook his head. "This was almost two years after Della disappeared. On the walk, I ran into a rival of Scrooge's... he had a lot of rivals after all, being the richest duck in the world... his name was Mark Beaks."

He watched them flinch at the name, and his heart hurt. "He came up to me, wanting to be a part of my family. I don't know, he was so desperate for a family of his own that he decided to insert himself into ours. I kept trying to get past him, telling him no over and over, but he was persistent; he wouldn't take no for an answer, and eventually he attacked me," Donald laughed nervously; it sounded very out of place with the tone of the story. "I blacked out, and I wished with everything in me that you boys would be okay, that Daisy would find you, that he wouldn't hurt you..."

There was silence for a moment before Louie said "Well, she didn't find us..."

"No... but at least he didn't hurt you. When I woke up, we were all... in here. In a shed in Mark's backyard." Donald gestured around them, his heart sinking, as if he was reliving the moment he woke up all over again. "I waited a long time for someone to come find and rescue me, but it never happened. After a week in here, you boys were born, and since I never got the opportunity to consult with your mother about it, I had to name you all alone... but I named you boys in remembrance of her. Hubert was her favorite book character, Dewford was the name of one of her cousins, and Llewellyn was the name of the fashion college she went to."

"So that's why my name is so weird," Louie groaned. They all laughed.

"For the last ten years, almost every day, Mark has come in to ask us to be a part of his family and move in with him to his house. And every day, he's said no. I don't know how long he plans on continuing to ask me, because he's been surprisingly persistent. But the answer is never gonna be yes."

All three of the triplets looked uncomfortable and annoyed by this piece of information, and Donald's guilt rose. They looked annoyed... with _him._

"Wait, I'm confused," Huey spoke up, looking as if he was trying to piece something together. "If your uncle is the greatest adventurer in the world, surely you must have been pretty good at it too... why weren't you able to escape him with all the experience you had?"

Donald gulped. "Well, I was never that great at it, but you're right. If I was prepared, I would have had no problems getting away. But he caught me so off guard when he initially attacked me, he was able to overwhelm me..."

"But what about when you got stuck in here?" Dewey asked, adding to Huey's questions. "You could've run past him and escaped at any time; you could've caught him off guard and overwhelm _him_."

Donald was getting anxious. He hated seeing them turn on him; he couldn't blame them, but he wasn't done telling his side of the story yet. However, he had really wanted to leave this detail out. "I... did try to escape, once," he admitted. "It's not relevant to the story, though..."

"Nope. The whole truth, remember?" Louie encouraged.

Donald took a sharp breath and said, "It was about two to three weeks after you boys were born. I realized I'd have to get myself out and no one was coming to rescue me. There used to be a basket sitting on the toilet over there, so I wrapped you three up in a blanket and placed you inside. Then, when he came in, I was able to threaten him with a kitchen knife and demand for the code to the padlock."

The triplets' eyes were extremely wide. "I thought you said violence wasn't okay," Huey said curiously.

"Well," Donald sighed. "This was a different case. It's okay if it's in self defense, or if you need to protect yourself from someone dangerous; it's a really tricky subject." The triplets nodded, and he went on: "He looked legitimately scared, and he blurted out the code... or what I thought was the code. My mistake was turning my back to him when entering it. The code he gave me was fake, and before I knew it, he had grabbed the basket from me," Donald choked a little bit, and cleared his throat. "I wasn't thinking clearly, and I wasn't careful enough. I lunged for the basket, to get him away from you but he pounced onto me, and.... strangled me." He touched his hand to his throat. "He screamed how he'd never _ever_ give me the code, and then he left. I couldn't talk for the longest time, and even then my voice never healed completely. It's the reason my voice is so unintelligible now. But thank god he didn't hurt any of you."

The triplets blinked in surprise. "Unintelligible? But we understand you just fine," Louie countered.

"Well," he sighed, "My voice has always been a little raspy, but after that incident, it's just... it's awful. Mark couldn't understand me for the longest time - sometimes he still can't - and I doubt anybody else who met me now would be able to either."

The triplets still looked confused. "But why wouldn't they? We have no trouble understanding you," Dewey said. He genuinely didn't understand.

"Well that's cause you boys have grown up with me, so of course..." Donald trailed off and shook his head. "Never mind," he sighed. "It doesn't matter. The point is, I never recovered from that event, and I probably never will. I don't want to put you boys in harm's way ever again, and selfishly, I don't want to put myself in that situation either. Besides that, being in here with malnutrition for about a decade has made me _extremely_ weak. I've probably forgotten everything I learned from Scrooge, and even if I hadn't, I wouldn't be strong enough to attack Mark now anyway.

"After that happened, I stopped resisting. I started acting up as much, and started being a _little_ more polite to Mark. I needed to make the most of what we had, and I needed to make sure you boys were safe. And it's been a long, _long,_ ten years, but that's the story of how we got here."

The triplets slowly absorbed everything they've learned, running it over in their minds again, and a sour look started to return to their faces once again. "So... logically... we _could_ go outside without having to worry about the atmosphere?" Dewey said.

Donald's heart thudded in his chest. "I told you that so you wouldn't be faced with the actual, darker truth... yes. It was a lie-"

"I _knew_ it!" Dewey shouted accusingly, jumping to his feet. "I knew it! You lied about that, and... and literally everything else!"

"I'm sorry..." Donald said earnestly. Huey and Louie were slowly standing up, betrayed looks on their faces as well. Louie felt massively conflicted, and Huey felt very hurt. "I know I should have told you boys sooner, but I didn't want to scare you! Who wants to tell their kids they're living in captivity?"

"If you had told us early in our lives, it wouldn't have affected us!" Dewey shot back. "If we were aware from the beginning, we wouldn't be freaking out as much now! It would have just been normal life for us!"

"Except you don't know that! By nature and instinct, we want to survive, we want to be _safe_ , and as a kid you would have only known that desire rather than have it feel like 'normal life!'" Donald said, trying to reason with Dewey. "And besides, I'm alone in here! I've been trying my best to take care of you all as best as I can, but without my family, I have no support system-"

"Actually, that's not true," Huey said, stepping in. "Mark Beaks has been giving us food and shelter, and other options for years."

The reality of what Huey was suggesting set in. Though Donald promised himself he wouldn't fight back against his kids when they got angry, he couldn't keep his promise anymore. Anger rose to the brim as he quickly stood up. "You're taking _his_ side? The man who's kept us in captivity for ten years, who's abused me, _all of us?_ You're choosing him over me?"

"Of course not!" Huey assured, though he still looked angry at Donald. "But to be fair, he's been offering us a steady home for years, and yet you've turned him down every time."

"Yeah, you're saying how awful it is in here, how malnourished we all are, but you're ignoring the _blatantly obvious better option? THREE YARDS AWAY?"_ Louie added, throwing his arms up in the air.

"It would be _no_ better over there there than it is in here! It would be _so much worse!"_ Donald seethed. "Don't you understand? If I say yes, we're not going to be _f_ _ree_. We're giving him more power over us if we give in! We will never be allowed to go outside, or go to theme parks, or feel the rain, or experience any adventuring of any kind, and in return, he'll have more leverage over us. It's just a bigger prison!"

"At least there'd be separate rooms, unlike the home we've had for the last ten years," Dewey muttered. "Then I could get away from you all, have some time to myself for one second... just one _second_."

"Did you not listen to _anything_ I just said?" Donald raised his voice even louder. He couldn't recall a single time in his entire life he'd raised his voice at his kids, and he felt like he'd regret it later. Most of the time, he would give them a stern talking to at most, but even then that was rare. His kids were well behaved and they all listened to and appreciated each other. They had always had a very healthy relationship, but now all of it seemed like it was washing down the drain, and it was _terrifying_ \- to all of them.

"And another thing," Dewey added, "You should have tried again! You should have kept trying, because I _know_ you could have made it out eventually!" The other boys nodded in agreement.

Donald was feeling panic rise up in him, and he felt more defensive than he ever had. "I _can't!_ " he yelled back. "I _can't_ boys, it wasn't that easy, and it definitely isn't that easy now!"

"If only you had turned around," Dewey shouted, "and noticed what he was doing, then things could have been different."

"Yeah! Once you realized that the code was wrong, you could have still had the upper hand, and bothered him for it until he gave it to you, or stole his phone, or something!" Huey said.

"We could have been with our mom! And our aunt, and with our great-uncle, and with _everybody!"_ Louie screamed.

The triplets, deep down, felt worse than they ever had; it wasn't their dad's fault at all. They didn't completely understand why they were lashing out at him; they were reeling from all the new information they had been given. They didn't blame their dad in the slightest, but at that moment they were angry, and they needed something to lash out.

Donald made a fist, clutching his shirt as if he was in physical pain.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT!"

_IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT._

The triplets were about to respond, but they all fell completely silent when they heard a familiar, fear-inducing sound.

_Beep beep beep._

Mark Beaks was coming in to check on them, in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get out! I wasn't completely sure how to write it. This was the hardest chapter for me to write so far, and probably in general regarding the whole fanfic. I hope you enjoyed it!  
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> It was a little hard for me to write the ending of this chapter, and I promise consequences for this will be brought up in the next chapter!


	5. Chapter Five: Louie's Decision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After facing a terrifying truth, Louie needs to make a choice for the sake of his family.

"Get behind me," Donald said harshly, pushing his kids behind himself. The triplets did as they were told. The fight they were in the middle of two seconds ago was immediately forgotten about.

The heavy door screeched open, and Mark Beaks took a lengthy step into the room. His expression was hard to read as he closed the door behind him.

Huey who was directly behind Donald, shuffled uncomfortably and looked back at his brothers. They looked as scared as he felt.

All three of them had already cooled down from the fight. They loved their dad, they understood his reasoning, and for the most part agreed with him on it. In the moment, they were too emotional and still processing all of the information they had been given in the span of a couple hours. Seeing Mark standing here was a wake up call for them; they didn't want to live with him. Not after all the stuff Donald told them he'd done, not after all the stuff they'd _seen_ him do themselves. Seeing Mark uncharacteristically standing in their room on the middle of a weekday, without the boys being in the cupboard, was a terrifying situation.

Dewey, who was between the two brothers, grabbed both of their hands and squeezed. Donald was standing in front of them protectively, but the fact that they weren't in the cupboard made their skin crawl.

No one spoke for several seconds. No one moved, or hardly breathed. Mark blinked at them a couple times until he finally cleared his throat.

"What do you think you're doing?" he accused.

"Excuse me?" It was hard to tell what emotion Donald's voice was holding.

"Don't play dumb with me," Mark shot back. "Yelling. Shouting for help. Is this what you do when I'm at work every day? Try to get my neighbor's attention?"

"I- no, what- What are you doing here?" Donald asked. "Aren't you supposed to be at work today?"

"After the giant nosedive my company took the other day, a couple colleagues suggested I take the day off," Mark explained, leaning against the table. "Apparently that was a good call for multiple reasons, seeing as you were trying to escape. What the hell, Donald? I was supposed to come home today to, what? None of _you?_ A bunch of cops?"

Louie squeezed Dewey's hand tighter, anxiety filling up in his chest. He was completely astounded; it sounded like he was fully aware that everything he was doing was bad, so... _why?_ Why was he doing any of it?

"No no no, I'm sorry - we're sorry. We weren't trying to call for help, I promise. We just... got into a fight," Donald assured him.

Mark raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He sounded skeptical. "About what?"

"Some of us wanted to play a board game, and some of us wanted to watch TV," Donald said without missing a beat. The triplets were impressed with how he was able to lie so easily. "We'll be quieter in the future. It won't happen again."

Mark groaned. "God, good. Keep them and yourself under control next time. I swear, times like these are when I wonder how bad of a father you actually are. I would have done so much better than... all of _this_ ," he gestured around at them.

Donald flinched the slightest bit at those words, and the boys' hearts cracked.

_You're not a bad dad..._

"Yeah, well that's because you're not... never mind," Donald said, losing his will to argue.

Huey, Dewey, and Louie were all too scared to be annoyed, but if they were braver, they knew they'd be furious. His logic and arguing made absolutely no sense. He seemed completely insane, warping reality only whenever he needed and to whatever he wanted. They were never truly on his side, but they were choosing to stay ignorant. Now that they were paying more attention to this man, they _despised_ him.

Mark's eyes shifted quickly from Donald to down near his legs and behind him - looking directly at the kids. All four of their hearts stopped.

"I don't think," he breathed, jumping up from the chair and sauntering over, not looking away. He looked all of them straight in the eyes, one at a time, his eyes piercing. "I've ever even seen them before. They've always been in the cupboard," he laughed.

Huey watched everything in Donald's body tense up. They watched his breathing get faster and smaller. "Mark," he said quietly.

"Relax, I'm not gonna do anything to them," Mark snapped back. He bent down until he was eye level with the kids. He cocked his head and smiled; it looked genuine, _kind_. It looked wrong on him. "Hey, boys. What are your names again?"

Dewey anxiously looked between his brothers. What were they supposed to say? Was dad gonna say anything? He was looking down at Mark, horrified, but still frozen in place. He knew his dad well enough to know that even if it was to risk his own personal safety, he would do anything to keep the distance between them and Mark as wide as possible. So why was he hesitating now?

Huey and Louie were frozen in complete fear. Dewey was the only one out of his entire family who seemed mobile at the moment, which... really sucked. He didn't know what to do. He may have acted the bravest all the time, but deep down, he was as scared as the rest of them. He was useless without his family. Louie was amazing at just _talking,_ and Huey was amazing at just knowing what to do. Dewey didn't have any of that, but he had to do _something._ Mark seemed to be getting frustrated by their lack of an answer. He opened his mouth and spoke on instinct...

The minute Mark's eyes shifted over to the kids, Donald accepted that his life was over.

Once he saw Mark bounce over to them, his entire body just stopped moving. In the past, he would have done anything to keep them safe, no matter what, so why was he freezing up now when it was most important?

His mind was screaming at him to move, to do anything, but he _couldn't_.

"Mark," he choked out desperately, and it almost physically pained him to speak.

"Relax, I'm not gonna do anything to them," Mark said as he bent down. Donald felt smaller and crappier than he ever had in the entirety of his life.

_That's what you've said to me before, too._

He watched in horrified silence as the scene played out, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He watched as Mark smiled innocently at them, which somehow made everything worse.

Because maybe... he was telling the truth. He wouldn't do anything to them. And if they went to live with him, they would live a nice, stable life. It would make Mark happy, and most of all... it would make the triplets happy.

After all, they hated him; they made that clear in the argument. They made it clear living with Mark would be better.

_It's all your fault._

Perhaps that's why he froze up. Because his subconscious knew this was what was best for them; as much as he might hate it.

He felt numb as he watched the kids stare back at Mark, entranced, as he asked them their names.

_He can't even remember their names._

_But he will. Once they're living with him, he will, and he'll be an amazing father._

He was watching the only thing that mattered to him anymore slip away from him.

"Hubert, Dewford, and Llewellyn," he heard Dewey say in response to Mark's question.

That caught him off guard. None of the triplets _ever_ used their full names. Sure, perhaps they were just shy getting to know Mark, but it didn't make much sense even then.

Mark burst out laughing and looked up at Donald. "You named them _what?_ " he continued howling for a couple more moments; Donald still stared down at all of them, wide-eyed.

"Well, boys," he finally said, wiping a tear from his face. He laced his voice with sugar. "I've got a _big_ house not too far away. And it's got plenty of food, water, toys, space, you name it. I've got a lot of money, so you could get whatever you want whenever you want. How does that sound?"

_Here it is._

Dewey didn't hesitate in answering. "Would dad come with us?" But he sounded as if he had already made up his mind - Donald knew him well enough to know that tone of voice - and he relaxed the smallest bit.

Did he... not want to go with Mark?

That didn't make any sense; they should all want to go, and out of all of them, especially Dewey.

Mark glanced back up at Donald. "If he wants," he said.

Dewey shook his head. "Nah, I think I'm okay..." his voice fell flat. "Thanks though."

Huey and Louie finally seemed to gain enough confidence to nod their heads in unison.

Donald's eyes widened even farther. They _didn't?_ Even after their fight?

Mark's eyes turned sour for a moment, until he blinked and the innocent facade appeared again. "I think you're just saying that because you've never experienced anything else," he laughed. He stood back up and grabbed Huey by the shoulder. "Come on, I'll show you-"

The minute he saw Mark touch one of his kids, Donald snapped out of it; he sprang into action.

Hearing Dewey talk really inspired Huey. It made him extremely proud of his brother, and helped him gain a little bit of confidence as well. Huey and Louie nodded along with him, their hearts calming a little. As long as they all had each other, and Dad, they would all be okay.

Until they saw Mark's fake expression relax for a moment, and all of Huey's anxieties came back. And then he stood up, and his heart started pounding again. _What was he doing? Where's he going?_

And then Mark Beaks firmly placed his hand on his shoulder, and almost started dragging him towards the door, and it caught him so off guard he almost yelped.

_Why is he touching me? Get him away from me, I don't-_

Huey wasn't sure how to process his intense fear, and he almost began shutting down - until Donald stepped in.

"Hey!" Donald yelled, jerking Mark's hand away. Huey took a huge step back, and Dewey and Louie both placed their hands on his shoulders comfortingly. It was a much friendlier grip than Mark's, and he took several deep breaths, calming down the slightest bit.

All of that happened within barely two seconds.

Donald looked exhausted and sweaty, even though he hadn't been doing anything physically draining until right this very moment. He composed himself, and stood defensively in front of the kids. "Please get out," he said. His voice was completely calm, but the triplets could see his hands shaking behind his back.

"Donald, come on, move. I was talking to my kids-"

" _My_ kids. Now please go back to the house. Get out. Go _rest_."

They both stood there for several seconds, until Mark scoffed. "Fine."

From behind Donald, they couldn't see the entirety of his actions, but from the way Mark lifted one foot off the ground, and the way Donald doubled over in pain, it was easy to deduce what he did. Before walking away, he dealt another blow to his leg, causing Donald to topple over. Once he got to the door, he completely disregarded Donald, and waved to the kids, an unsettling smile on his face. "See you boys later."

Then he was gone.

Donald waited several seconds until he was sure Mark was gone for good, then crawled over to the toilet in the corner. They all flinched as their dad threw up, heaving and heaving, until he was left with an intense dry cough. He shakily got up, washed his hands and face, and leaned against the wall next to the TV.

He didn't flush. That was weird. All four of them always flushed.

Louie was the first to rush over, but the other two were right behind him. "Dad, are you okay?" he asked. They all started talking over each other, asking him similar questions.

"I'm so sorry," Huey finally said, tears spilling over. "I couldn't do anything, I was just _frozen,_ I couldn't be as brave as you or Dewey, and you had to save me, and I'm so so sorry."

"No, you shouldn't be," Dewey said, his eyes getting wet as well. "I wasn't brave either, I just made everything worse, I was trying really hard to say something to make it better and make him go away, but I'm so dumb, I didn't make a difference."

"And I just cowered in the back... I should've done more," Louie sobbed.

They watched as a single tear rolled down their dad's face. "Boys, no... you did nothing wrong, I am so, so equally proud of all of you, and I'm so sorry I put you in that situation."

"How did _you_ put us in that situation?" Huey asked, wiping his tears away.

"Well... you know... it's all my fault, isn't it? I shouldn't have taken you out on a walk that day, and I should've told you the truth sooner. If we weren't fighting, he wouldn't have come in. I should have intervened sooner too-"

"Dad, no, of course it wasn't your fault-"

They all got cut off by the lamp in the corner flickering off. Dewey ran over to turn it back on, but it stayed off. "The oven light is off too," he said, a worried expression crossing his face.

Donald scowled. "He cut the power; he's upset that things didn't go his way, and he's punishing us for it," he seethed.

"What?" Louie exclaimed as Dewey rushed back over. "Has he done this before?"

"...once, I think. When you boys were three or four. He left it off for about a day."

The expressions of horror on his kids' faces made Donald feel even more guilty.

"Dad," Dewey spoke up again. "I'm so sorry for the things I said. I didn't mean any of it. I was just overwhelmed, and I didn't know how to process everything I was learning, and I've just wanted to go outside so _badly,_ so I took it out on you. You're an amazing dad, and I love you. I'll be more considerate in the future."

"Same here," Louie added. "I'm so sorry."

"And after that..." Huey rubbed the shoulder that Mark had grabbed self-consciously. "We were too focused on ourselves in that moment, and we weren't thinking about your feelings at all. We knew Mark was a monster deep down, but we were choosing to ignore that so we could argue with you. It wasn't until we saw him just now, or especially after he did something to us personally, that we took it as seriously as we should have; we should have taken it seriously from the start. I'm really sorry about that."

Donald's chest was swelling with pride and love. How did they get so _smart?_

"You all are kids. You're allowed to feel things and make mistakes and say stupid stuff. _I'm_ sorry our lives are like this."

"Yeah..." Louie agreed. "It's weird. I hate it here, and I hate Mark, but I don't really want to go outside either. It seems too... I don't know, _big_."

Donald didn't say anything, but he nodded in understanding. Huey looked thoughtful, and after a moment, he spoke.

"Honestly, I didn't want to leave at _all_. It's fun to read about it in the junior woodchuck guidebook and everything, but I never actually wanted to experience it. We had everything we needed in here. But after today... it's true that we didn't know everything, but there were a lot of clues that things sucked, and I chose to ignore those clues." He looked around at all of them. Part of him wanted to stay in this room forever, but after everything that just happened, he knew they weren't safe; and he didn't want to make his family live somewhere unsafe. "I think we should try to get out of here."

Dewey's eyes widened in anticipation, and Louie glanced at all of them. A ray of hope pierced Donald's chest. He slowly sat up.

"Yeah..." he said. "Yeah, I was actually going to bring that up. I was going to ask you all if you'd like to... move. I've got a plan."

Dewey's eyes were still wide, and the happiness that was in them was palpable. "Why didn't you mention this _earlier?"_ He said, exasperated.

"I was going to! And then... all that happened," Donald sighed. "Anyway, I've been thinking of possible plans for... years. For most of them, I didn't take it seriously. In all scenarios I ran in my head, I could see myself losing. And I haven't actually attempted anything since... the first time." He touched his hand to his neck. "But in all of them I didn't even consider getting help. I've always been thinking of how to carry it out alone, but I don't think we can get out if I do that. I need your boys' help... if you're willing. I know the thought is scary, but-"

"I'll help," Dewey said, a huge smile on his face. "We'll help. Right?"

Louie smiled and nodded, and after a moment, Huey joined in. They were all on the same page.

Hope was flooding Donald's senses now. There was no stopping him now that he had gotten started.

"Oh my gosh. Okay. Um..." Donald put his hands to his head, trying to collect his thoughts. "Okay. I've been thinking this over for some time now, and it just might work, especially now that the power's out."

Huey, Dewey, and Louie all scooched in, listening intently.

"We're gonna need to act. And it has to be really, _really_ convincing acting. Dewey, I love you, but if we're gonna do this, you're gonna have to tone the dramatics down a bit." He smiled a little, and Dewey scoffed.

"I think my acting is perfect, but _whatever_ ," he said mellow dramatically, tossing his head back.

"We're all gonna have to give the performances of our lives, but... I'm gonna need one of you boys to be the star. We need to make Mark think one of you is sick. _Really_ sick. It's believable because it's still pretty cold this time of year, our living conditions are terrible, and he cut the power off. I've been thinking about this for a long time, but I was never sure if there was a right opportunity. This is it. A reason as to why you're so sick. It all makes perfect sense." 

Donald was getting extremely riled up. "He needs to think you're sick enough to go to the hospital. So he'd take you to the hospital, and then I'd leave a note with you, in your pocket or something, and you give it to the _first_ person you see."

"Wait, so..." Louie piped up. "One of us would be at the hospital, but everyone else would still be in _here?"_

Donald nodded sadly. "But it wouldn't be for long! The note would explain who you are and who your dad is and where we are and then people would come for us. If you have to, make a scene, and put up a fight. It'll be easier for people to tell that Mark isn't a good person."

The triplets were starting to shift in their seats. This was starting to seem extremely scary again.

Donald was getting almost too passionate. He was finally finding a way out, and his kids were willing to help him; freedom felt so close, and he was letting it get the best of him.

"How are you even sure someone would come to help us?" Huey asked hesitantly.

Donald shook his head. "No, don't worry, they will. Trust me. Hospital workers are very nice, and they'd believe you and the note."

"But which one of us is gonna have to do it?" Dewey added. They all fell silent for a moment until he added softly, "If no one else wants to do it... I can."

Donald shook his head, a regretful look crossing his eyes. "No... Dewey, thank you so much, but I'm afraid it has to be..." his eyes slowly shifted over. "Louie."

Louie almost physically jumped back in surprise. " _Me?_ What? Why? I-" Louie started waving his hands around, agitated. "I don't want to! Dewey was just volunteering, why not him?"

"Cause you're the youngest... and younger siblings are stereo-typically the weaker ones."

"What does that matter?" Louie shot back. "It doesn't mean older siblings can't get sick!"

"I know that," Donald was saying quietly. "But Mark Beaks isn't gonna see it that way. He's _dense_. He's scary, but he's one of the stupidest and most thick headed people I've ever met. If Huey or Dewey try, he's subconsciously not gonna believe us and refuse to help. It's not gonna work."

"You don't know that!"

"Trust me, I know Mark. He's easy to figure out." He said it in a tone that was both spiteful towards Mark and caring towards Louie.

Louie was still shaking his head violently. His pupils were small and his eyes wide. "Who says he'll even believe me?"

"We don't know that for sure," Donald admitted. "But you're our best hope. I have a feeling it'll work." He tried smiling comfortingly at Louie, but Louie ignored it, too worked up.

The problem was Donald had been dreaming of freedom for too long, and now that he had a shot, he was feeling desperate. Louie was still on the fence over whether or not he wanted to leave.

"What, so..." Louie blurted out, grasping at straws. "So he can't remember our _names_ but he remembers what order we're born in? How does that make any sense?!"

"Because Mark Beaks is obsessed with age. He's obsessed over how old he is, or how old and "fragile" I'm getting, and he's especially obsessed about your kid's age. He doesn't want you all to grow up before he had a chance to "raise you" or something. He's twisted and weird."

The already small room seemed to shrink even farther on Louie. He understood what his dad was saying, but some part of himself couldn't accept it. It wasn't _fair_. He could handle whatever job the rest of his family had, but having to go out in the world sooner than he could have imagined? By himself? With his family's fate resting on his shoulders?

That was too much. Dewey could have braved his way through it, and Huey could have thought his way through it, but what did he have?

"I can't-" Louie said, taking a step back. "No no no-"

"Louie, please. You're our only hope-"

"Don't _tell_ me that!" he snapped. "I don't want to have to think about that! What the heck? Just- no!"

"Louie-" this came from Huey, reaching for his brother's hand.

Louie pulled it away. "No! I said no! I'm going to bed!" Despite the fact it was still only late afternoon, Louie stormed off and crawled into bed (he was sharing with Donald that night).

Huey and Dewey glanced nervously at each other, and then back up at Donald. "Should we go talk to him?" Dewey asked quietly.

Donald shook his head. He felt beyond guilty. _Why do you keep doing things like this? Why do you keep making your kids hate you?_ He had kept pushing, forgetting how scary being thrust into something like that would be for Louie. "No... I pushed him too hard. Let's just give him some time to think. I think it's best if we all head to bed early tonight. Mark won't be coming."

Donald offered them dinner before they all headed to bed, but no one was really hungry. Donald still felt nauseous from the kick to the stomach earlier, and the boys had lost their appetite after everything that happened that day. After cleaning up the room a bit, they all crawled into their respective beds.

"Do you think Louie's gonna agree?" Dewey whispered to Huey.

Huey remembered how terrified he felt when imagining himself having to carry out the plan Donald was suggesting. He shrugged. "I don't know."

"Do you think he _should_ agree?"

He hesitated.

"I don't know."

Donald woke up early, nightmares of yesterday clouding his mind. He sat straight up, panting, but composed himself. He didn't want his kids to see him with night terrors.

That's when he noticed Louie wasn't in bed next to him. He was sitting at the kitchen table, back turned towards him. He was sipping something from a cup, and one of their blankets was wrapped around him.

That's right. The power was still out; and it was freezing outside.

Donald shivered as he realized, and slowly got out of bed. As he got closer, he noticed Louie shivering through the blanket.

As he stepped into his son's line of sight, he looked up, startled, and then back down. He was looking down at the table, tracing circles with his finger.

Donald pulled out the chair next to him. "How are you feeling?" he asked cautiously.

Louie shrugged. "Fine."

"How'd you sleep?"

"It was cold," he said with a sigh. He continued drawing circles. "But there's nothing either of us could have done about that."

Neither of them said anything for several moments, until Donald finally brought up the elephant in the room. "Have you... thought about it?"

Louie made an exasperated noise and leaned back in his chair. He still refused to look up. _Here it is._ "I don't know. I guess."

To be honest, he wasn't able to fall asleep for hours; his thoughts, insecurities and worries took hold of his mind. After running over what could happen to him several times in his brain, he still wasn't feeling any more confident about the situation.

He added after a moment, "Does it _have_ to be now?"

"I'm afraid so..." Donald said. "Or, at least for this plan. I don't know when we'll get another opportunity like this. If we pass it up, I think we'd have to come up with some other plan. The circumstances for this might not work later."

"Louie rubbed his hands together nervously under the table. Guilt was building a foundation in his stomach.

"Louie, I..." his dad started. "I want you to know that I love you, and I will always love you no matter what."

Louie heightened his gaze a bit as Donald continued talking. "I sprung that plan way too fast on all three of you last night. I'm just desperate to get out of here, but you boys probably aren't, and I neglected that fact. If you aren't ready for this, I understand."

Louie finally looked up at Donald. It was clear his words weren't entirely sincere; but it's not like he blamed him. This was a difficult situation his dad was put in, having to choose between his child's comfort or his own freedom. He would be miserable with his decision either way.

What _was_ clear, in his father's eyes, was the love. Louie was able to believe the part about his dad loving him no matter what, and that brought him a shred of comfort through his decisions.

"We'll be okay," his dad said, starting to sound more and more earnest. "We'll all figure out how to move forward together."

Louie slowly shook his head. "No... I think I just made up my mind... if we're moving forward together, it'll be in the outside world."

Donald's eyes popped wide open instantaneously. "What?! Are you _sure?"_

"I'm sure," Louie said.

Because after seeing his dad's sadness, he remembered how badly Dewey wanted to escape as well. And then he remembered how invested Huey was in the junior woodchuck guidebook and learning about the outside world, even if he was content in here as well. And then he remembered things he wanted to see as well; the architecture, the technology, the _people_. All things he had been too shy to admit to himself up until this point.

Huey probably wasn't aware on how much he was missing out on, and up until this point, neither was Louie.

As much as he loved being lazy, he _needed_ to see what was outside.

And even more than that, he wanted his family to see what was outside, too. He wanted to experience it with them.

So, even though he was still scared, he agreed to the plan.

"Louie, I... I promise I wasn't trying to guilt you or anything, if you don't want to..."

Louie smiled and shook his head. "No, I want to. I decided on my own"

Donald looked like he couldn't comprehend what he was hearing for several moments. Finally, his eyes softened, and he grabbed his son in a huge hug. "Thank you so much Louie," he cried. "Thank you so much." he jumped back, his breathing getting fast. He wasn't panicking, but he was getting overworked and excited again. "Okay," he said, looking around. "I'll make you boys breakfast, and then we'll start getting ready. We're gonna need to make this as convincing as possible." He almost started _jogging_ as he went around the table to get some utensils. "Could you wake up your brothers? I'll get some cereal ready. Hopefully nothing in the fridge went bad last night..."

Louie nodded, and walked towards his sleeping brothers' forms. He was really doing this. He actually agreed to this insane plan.

And strangely, he felt satisfied with himself.

Huey and Dewey woke up shivering, and with Louie's face in theirs.

"GEEZ," Dewey said, reflexively kicking at Louie. Louie wheezed and toppled over. "OH MY GOSH. I'M SO SORRY."

"Don't worry about it," Louie rolled his eyes, picking himself up. He shoved a blanket at his brothers. "Here. The power's still off, that's why it's so cold this morning."

"Oh...yeah," Huey said, as he wrapped the blanket around himself and Dewey. All the memories from yesterday came rushing back at him. They finally looked over and noticed Donald getting breakfast ready. Currently he was fussing over the contents in the fridge, paying them no mind.

Louie clenched his hands. "I said yes," he breathed out. "I decided to go."

"You _did?"_ Huey exclaimed in surprise. "But why?"

"I don't know, I... it's not like we can stay here any longer. I feel like things are only gonna get worse and worse. And I guess I..." he sighed. " _rethought my_ _priorities_ and I just... really want to see outside. I want to go actually _do_ something with you guys."

Dewey smiled at the sentiment for a moment before it faded. "Louie, I'm so sorry... I would go if I could. I don't want to put you in that sort of situation."

"I'm sorry, too," Huey added. "And you're right. It's best we get out of here. We should put that as our first priority. I'm just... having a hard time rearranging mine, too."

"No, it's not your fault!" Louie said to Dewey almost accusingly. "I know you would've gone if you could, and I'm thankful, but I'll be fine on my own. And you," he turned to Huey. "Who cares? So you have mixed feelings. So do I. They didn't go away; I'm still scared. What matters is keeping ourselves _safe_ , and I know that if we can get away from Mark, then we'll find another safe home out there with Dad and hopefully the rest of our family."

Huey and Dewey slowly nodded. "Louie was surprisingly good at just _talking_ , and calming his brothers down.

"No matter what," he assured, taking their hands, "we'll always have each other."

The same thoughts went through their minds at the same time: _Except when Louie leaves. And if the worst happens, we'll never see him again._

The most terrifying thought was the fact that even if nothing bad happened and everything went according to plan, this would be the first time in the triplet's entire lives that they had been separated. And even though it was a scary thing to think, it meant change was coming. _Good_ change.

A new chapter in their lives was starting; they could feel it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! So, regarding Ducktales...
> 
> I'm fully aware that it's ending after season three. I'm extremely sad about it, but I'm glad it hasn't been cancelled, and is simply reaching its logical conclusion. I can't wait to see how the finale plays out.
> 
> That being said, I PROMISE to finish this fanfiction. My love for Ducktales isn't going anywhere and I'm still passionate about writing this story. I hope everyone who's reading currently will continue to stay with me on this journey! I've got so many ideas for later, and I can't wait to see what you all think about them.
> 
> So in conclusion, thank you so much for all the support you've given this story so far; thank you for reading, and I can't wait to see what you all think of future chapters :)


	6. Chapter Six: Practice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louie and the rest of the family start prepping their escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> emetophobia trigger warning // lots of vomit dealt with in this chapter

After their small, cold breakfast, a couple more minutes passed as Donald shoved the table to the corner of the room in front of the TV. They needed space, he told them. During this time, Huey went over to the toilet and nearly gagged when looking inside.

"Dad, you never flushed your... you know..." Huey said, reaching for the handle.

"No no no don't flush!" Donald cried out. Huey recoiled his hand and looked at his dad in confusion.

Donald sighed. "We're gonna use it to make Louie look sick. When it gets closer to time, we're gonna have to rub it on some pillows, and Louie, too."

Louie looked up from the opposite corner of the room, his face tightening. "We're gonna have to do _what?"_

Dewey would have laughed if it wasn't for the seriousness and stress the day was bringing. "That's _disgusting,"_ he remarked as lightly as he could.

Donald hung his head in shame. "I know, I know; but once we get out of here, I promise I'll make up for it with whatever you boys want. It's just really important for right now."

The boys all glanced at each other. _If_ they got out of there, he meant. Everybody was thinking it, but nobody had the courage to say it.

"Alright," Donald said when he finally got everything out of the way. He tried to force a smile. "Welcome to acting class."

The boys appreciated the attempt at making the experience feel more innocent, but they weren't sure it was going to work; they were all too on edge.

"When Mark comes in, Louie's going to be in bed," he said, pointing at the bed Donald shared with one of the kids each night. "Huey and Dewey, you'll be next to the cupboard, but I want you standing outside of it. I don't think you boys need to pretend to cry, but you have to look as genuinely worried as possible."

"That won't be hard," Dewey shrugged. He put on a cocky smile, and then proceeded to wallow in misery.

Donald grimaced, and then smiled a little. "Yeah... no. Huey, can you try?"

"Um..." Huey stretched his face uncomfortably. Donald's face fell, but once Huey's face fell with his, Donald's eyes lit back up. "See! That looked good! You just have to loosen up! Uh... I mean, once Mark comes in, it'll probably be a little easier to act, since we'll already be worried; so I think that's gonna help. Just don't put too much pressure on yourself, and think about something that bothers you. Don't deliberately think about the fact that you're acting."

Donald mentally kicked himself. He wasn't an actor. He wasn't sure how to explain this, or if there was even a _right_ way to explain this. His entire body was vibrating with adrenaline, and Mark's visitation was still hours away.

"And you," he turned to Dewey, "have the opposite problem as Huey; you need to tone it down. Again, don't think of it as acting. Just imagine what we're pretending to do is actually happening."

_That's what acting is, idiot._

"I know you boys can do it, okay? Um... go teach each other. Balance the other out. I'm gonna help Louie." The boys crawled over to their bed, and faced each other. They quietly murmured as they started helping each other and giving out tips to the best of their abilities; after all, it wasn't like they were professionals.

"Okay, Louie..." Donald said, turning back to the youngest triplet, "You're probably gonna have to act the most, but I'm gonna help you out, okay?"

"By smearing puke all over me," Louie sighed.

Donald laughed nervously. "That, and... I'll be with you the entire time. I can sell the performance for you if I really need to, okay?" He waited for Louie to nod until he continued, "So, sick people are usually really weak and loose. I'm gonna pick you up, and I need you to go as limp as you can."

Before Louie could shrug, Donald had scooped him up under his arm. He was surprised by how quickly and efficiently Louie was able to replicate a sick person's energy and body weight.

He set Louie back down on the bed, smiling. "We should probably do that a couple more times today just to be safe, but... wow! Perfect first try!"

Louie shrugged again, fighting off a smile. "I'm lazy, what can I say?"

"Okay, so that... and crying. You're gonna have to fake cry. For the most part, you'll act mostly out of it, but we need some genuine distress and tears on your face."

Louie thought for a moment. "I think I can figure that out." He concentrated hard for a moment, staring at the wall across from him, almost beyond it, until he felt a tear prick his eye. He couldn't help but feel accomplished. "I did it!"

Donald felt pride surge through him. Not only was Louie the perfect choice because of his age, but also because of his skills. It was becoming clear that he was the best actor out of his three kids (though Huey and Dewey were talented in other ways). "That's an amazing start, Louie! Will you be able to get the tears our of your eyes by tonight?"

Louie rolled his eyes with a smile, waving Donald away. "Of _course_. This is easy."

Donald laughed with him. "Glad to see you're looking on the bright side here." He got up and let Louie practice on his own, then headed to the kitchen.

_What are you doing? This is never gonna work. You're putting them through all this hell for nothing._

He looked back at his kids, practicing what he asked them to, and guilt rose in his chest again. He tried his best to push it down.

_Now is not the time for doubts or self-loathing. We have to get out, no matter what._

He grabbed a Ziploc bag, filled it with water, and placed it in the microwave. This was the only part of the plan where the power outage was a disadvantage; they needed Louie's forehead to be as hot and clammy as possible, but it was nearly impossible to heat anything up without power. Placing it in the microwave would keep it warm, and hopefully make it even warmer, but it wouldn't be perfect. That part of the plan would be tricky.

Next he tore a small scrap of paper from Dewey's journal, which he found toppled over on the shelf. He wrote the note _I'm Donald Duck's son, Louie. Mark Beaks has us trapped in a shed in his backyard. My uncle is Scrooge McDuck._

Hopefully that would be enough explaining for whoever Louie came across. He tucked it away in his own pocket for now, and walked over to Huey and Dewey. They looked up at him expectantly.

"Okay," he smiled. "Show me what you've got."

The boys were able to almost perfectly portray the feeling of dread and worry already, and Donald almost jumped up and down. Sure, it wasn't _perfect_ , but Mark would probably be fooled, and they wouldn't have much attention on them anyway; they were going to be in the background.

"It's perfect," Donald smiled. "All of you boys are doing so great. Um... we have to keep practicing, but I'm so proud of you boys, amazing jobs."

Over the next couple of hours, they practiced where they would stand and what they would do. The family of four turned into an acting workshop, giving each other advice and bettering themselves. Louie was able to perfect his fake crying, while Dewey learned to be less dramatic, and Huey learned to be more animated. Donald never practiced himself, but only helped his kids.

"Don't you need to practice too, Dad?" Louie finally asked after a while.

Donald had been focused on Huey, and turned to him, surprised. "Huh?"

"You're gonna need to act too. What are you gonna do? Do you need help?"

"Oh," Donald smiled. "Don't worry about me. I'll be next to you the whole time. I'm gonna work on convincing Mark to take you to the hospital."

"But do you need help acting that out?" Dewey spoke up. "Or are you secretly an amazing actor?"

Donald looked uncomfortable as he admitted, "I won't be acting."

They continued practicing all day. They ate an extremely small lunch and no dinner; they were all too stressed to eat, and most of the food had gone bad anyway. Much to the entire family's surprise, Mark was still refusing to turn the power back on.

By 8:45 that evening, everyone was as prepared as they were going to get - and as stressed as they could possibly be.

It was chaos. All four were scrambling around, trying to make the room look as convincing as possible, as if somebody had been deathly sick all day. Donald grimaced as he scooped up a portion of the vomit from the toilet into the bag, being sure to leave some in the toilet, and then proceeded to smear it on the pillow and Louie's face.

Louie almost threw up himself. "This is absolutely disgusting," he whined.

Huey and Dewey were starting to throw blankets over themselves, and huddled together on the bed, practicing one last time. Donald pulled out the note he had written earlier and stuffed it into Louie's hoodie pocket. "Remember, give it to the first person you see." He then put the bag of warm water on Louie's head. It wasn't as warm as he wanted it to be, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. It would still be enough to make his son's forehead hot.

Louie winced as the water burned his forehead. "What are you doing?" he cried.

"We have to get your forehead as warm as possible," Donald stated frantically. He mentally kicked himself for not mentioning it earlier. "I'm so sorry," he muttered. Louie didn't hear him.

Genuine tears of fear and frustration came to Louie's eyes, and he pushed them over the edge with his fake ones.

"I love you, Louie... it'll all be alright," he promised. "Everything's gonna be oka-"

They heard the familiar beeping of the door and they all glanced at each other one last time. Donald nodded to Huey and Dewey, and their performance began.

Louie began vocally crying as Mark came into the room.

"I'm doing everything I can, Louie... I promise Mark will be here soon-" Donald turned around, pretending that he had only just noticed Mark.

His eyes were wide with shock. He didn't glance once at Huey or Dewey as he walked over. "I was going to ask you all if you were ready to shape up so I'd turn your power back on, but this... what the hell is happening here?"

"It's your fault," Donald snapped, a quiver in his voice. "You turned the power off, and Louie got sick. Then all the food went bad, and we couldn't eat anything all day - not that _he_ could anyway, he can't even hold water down. I don't know what to do, Mark, I don't have any medicine. This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't turned off the power!"

"Don't put the blame on me!" Mark snapped, though clearly agitated. " _You're_ the ones who decided to act up. Just - let me see."

He put his hand firmly against Louie's head; he flinched, but didn't break character. He shook his head and cried harder.

Mark pulled his hand away after a moment, looking skeptical. "He _is_ warm..." he stated, trailing off.

Donald's insides squeezed.

_It wasn't warm enough. The bag wasn't warm enough._

_Keep going. Don't show him anything. Adjust._

He shook it off and made a noise between a scoff and a laugh. "Yeah! He's been fluctuating all day. I don't know what to do. This is the worst fever I've seen in years, even before you... I can't handle this by myself." He paused, looking between Louie and Mark. "I need you to take him."

Mark was taken aback. " _What?_ To where?"

"I don't know! The ER, the hospital, anywhere. Just please _help_ him! We need you, please." Donald fell to his knees, tears falling from his eyes. "Please please _please_ take him, I'll do whatever you want, just _help_ him. Please, I can't do this alone."

Mark clearly looked conflicted. He looked between Donald, Louie, and after a moment, he turned to Huey and Dewey who were huddled up, staying in character. When he looked back to Louie, something in his mind clicked, and his eyes hardened. His mind was made up.

"I'll bring him medicine tomorrow night," he stated, heading back towards the door. "He should be fine until then; and I'll turn the power back on soon, too."

Donald got up, his desperation palpable. "You can't leave!" he screamed. "I don't know what's gonna happen to him if you wait another day! Please, I'm _begging_ you-"

"I told you, I'll bring him medicine." Mark was clearly uncomfortable and trying to flee as fast as possible.

"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE! Come back here right, now, _please,_ he _needs_ you!"

 _"You don't get to make demands!_ I said I'll bring him medicine tomorrow! That's my final answer! Be patient!" Mark said loudly as he slammed the heavy door behind him.

The light at the end of Donald's tunnel was getting farther and farther away. He felt dizzy, and he wouldn't have been surprised if he passed out. He shakily reached his hand out to the wall and slowly slid down, zoning out.

_You put your kids through that for nothing._

_What are you gonna do now?_

_There's no way out._

_You and your kids are never gonna feel sunshine, or snow, or rain, or a hug from their mother..._

Donald suddenly snapped out of his trance, a feeling surfacing in his chest. It wasn't exactly hope, but it was... a second chance.

His kids were looking at him expectantly. Huey looked annoyed, Louie looked exhausted, and Dewey, for once, looked completely empty; the fight in him was gone.

"So it was all... for nothing?" Louie muttered, wiping the vomit off of his face. "We're still stuck here?"

"Are we gonna be trapped forever?" Dewey muttered. He sounded like he barely had energy left to speak.

Donald, as drained and depressed as he was feeling, forced himself to stand. "No," he said triumphantly. "No, it wasn't all for nothing. So plan A didn't work. That's fine. Now we carry out plan B."

Huey looked up. "Plan B?" he cocked an eyebrow. "Was this a plan you had earlier, and didn't tell us? Or did you come up with it just now?"

"Well... a little of both," he admitted. "I had the beginning of this plan, just in case the original plan didn't work, but I wasn't thinking of the details until just now." He started pacing up and down, his mind flashing through scenarios. "I know that was a hard thing to deal with, and I know it seems like it didn't go anywhere, but it _did!_ Mark is freaking out right now, and he's not gonna be thinking as clearly when he comes in tomorrow! I..." he turned to his boys, who were starting to look energetic again. "I'm so proud of all you. That was _amazing!"_

Louie smiled. "Thanks, but... you still haven't mentioned what we're doing tomorrow."

Donald took a deep breath. "We're gonna make him think you're dead," he said to Louie.

The fatigue was fogging the boys' brains, but once it got through, their eyes widened slowly. "We're _what?"_ Dewey exclaimed. He seemed to be feeling a bit better. "How are we going to do _that?"_

"Can we please talk about it in the morning?" Louie groaned. "I want to go to sleep."

"I agree with Louie," Huey said, already crawling over to Donald's bed to sleep for the night. "We already got tons of acting practice today. We probably won't need as much tomorrow."

Donald blinked. "Are you boys sure you're okay with this?"

They all nodded in unison. "It's not like we're in a situation to say no, anyway; we're in too deep with this plan," Huey said sleepily. He saw his dad's worried expression and quickly added, "Not that we would disagree anyway!"

"Yeah!" Dewey agreed. "I'm with you guys on this, all or nothing! After all the tension we went through today, tomorrow can't be nearly as bad."

"I agree," Louie said in the middle of a yawn, walking to the bed Dewey was sitting in.

Though the notion of facing Mark again was scary, it wasn't as scary as it had seemed the night before. They had already done it once before, and they faced the worst case scenario with their plan failing. They could do it again, and hopefully they could succeed this time. They all fell asleep, trying to ignore the nightmares that plagued their dreams.

All four of them tried to sleep in, but it eventually proved impossible. Even though the kids agreed to any and all plans, the fear wasn't going away.

Mark Beaks still hadn't turned on the power. "My guess is he forgot to last night," Donald stated. He clenched his teeth. "God, he's so _ignorant, all the time..._ on the bright side, our new plan will be heavily believable because of the lack of power, but..." he sighed, trailing off.

After that, Donald explained the plan as quickly and clearly as he could; they were going to have to roll Louie up in their rug that stretched from the TV room to the beds. Once in the car, Louie would roll himself out of the rug and jump out of the car at the first stop sign. From there, he'd run to the first person he could find, flailing his arms and making sure everyone knew who he was running from.

"Louie, yesterday you loosened yourself up, but today you're gonna have to be as stiff as possible. Huey and Dewey, unlike yesterday, you're going to have to cry. Can you work on that?"

"Here," Dewey turned to look at Huey, holding his eyelids open with his hands. "If you can't figure out how to fake cry in time, just hold your eyes open for a really long time until they water."

Huey looked displeased, but he slowly mimicked Dewey's movements, albeit awkwardly and annoyed. Louie tugged on Donald's arm, and he turned back to look at the third triplet.

"What if he unrolls the rug to check if I'm really dead?" He asked cautiously.

"He won't," Donald said confidently, though he didn't feel too confident about the answer personally. "I promise. I'll convince him not to. I'm good at convincing him, remember?"

Louie gave his dad an unsure smile.

"Wait," Huey piped up. He put his hands down, wiping away the small tears he had been able to conjure from Dewey's method. "If this doesn't work like yesterday's plan, we're gonna need a plan C. If he finds out that we're lying before Louie's out of the room, or if he refuses to take him for some reason, what are we gonna do?"

Donald gave his kids, a small, daring smile. "We could probably tackle him. It's four against one, right?"

The triplets all nodded, and Huey and Dewey turned back to each other.

"What about a plan D, if he discovers that I'm alive after I'm outside?"

Donald's facial features softened. "Louie, I don't think you'll have to worry about that-"

"I know," Louie said. Usually he was great at lying but that line came out unconvincingly. "But we should have a plan just in case it does."

Donald thought for a moment. "Well..." he thought, "he'll be alone, so at least it'll be easier to get away. He might have to stop the car if he notices you. If he does, take the opportunity to get out. If he doesn't stop, yell out the window, or kick him, or both. Make a scene." Donald smiled a little, and Louie forced one onto his face to match.

"Okay..." he said. The nerves were starting to get to him again. He had a gut feeling that this plan would work, and he wanted that pit in his stomach to go away.

The day passed much like the day before; constant practice. There was less acting to work on, however, and more blocking. They practiced rolling Louie up in the rug as fast as possible, and Louie practiced being as stiff as a log, and breathing as shallowly as possible, though he soon found that it was hard to breathe regardless when you're being smothered in a rug. He practiced rolling himself out as well, which was much harder than it looked. Every time he managed, he sat up quickly, gasping for air, tears pricking his eyes.

"When you roll out of the rug, try not to sit up so fast," Donald commented. "It'll draw more attention to yourself. If things go well, Mark won't notice when you roll yourself out of the rug. Hopefully he has a truck; if he puts you in the back of a truck, everything will be so much easier to-"

Louie let out a frustrated scream and stood up quickly, kicking at the rug. Huey and Dewey, who had been talking in the background, immediately stopped and turned to their brother. Donald stared up at him, wide-eyed.

"This is impossible!" Louie shouted. "I'm not gonna be able to roll out of this stupid rug, and I'm probably gonna mess something up before then anyway, and-" he shivered. "This room is still _freezing!_ Why didn't he turn the power back on when he saw what was happening? How awful is he to forget after all that?!"

Donald didn't say anything. He wasn't sure what to say.

Louie really didn't want to cry, but he couldn't help it. He slowly sat back down and put his head in his hands. He felt so overwhelmed.

"I can't do this," he muttered quietly. "It's too much..."

Part of him wished he was never born. Not that he wanted to die, but he wasn't sure how to deal with everything that was happening.

_I wish we were born into normal circumstances. I wish we could worry about normal kid stuff. I wish I knew my family already. I wish I knew who my mom was._

After a moment, he noticed his dad and his brothers sidling up on either side of him. He couldn't look at them, but he felt a little better.

"You _can_ do it, Louie," Dewey assured him. "You've already done half of it. And you did great!"

"Yeah, I could've never done what you did yesterday!" Huey added. "Yesterday was probably the scariest part of this whole plan."

Louie didn't believe his brother but his interest was piqued. "How?" he asked, his voice muffled from his hands.

"Well," Huey shrugged. "It was the first time we were trying to lie to him. He's gonna be too caught off guard to think logically from here on out. And logic is the leading component in my mind... so if I were him, I'd be screwed from here on out."

Despite himself, Louie laughed. "That's true, you worry about facts too much." He wiped the tears from his face and inhaled sharply, jumping up. "Okay," he said, turning to Donald. "I'm ready to keep going."

Donald smiled hesitantly at Louie, but behind the smile his heart was breaking.

The hours passed slowly yet quickly at the same time. Louie still had difficulty rolling himself out of the rug, but he had noticeably improved. Though Dewey could fake cry without having to hold his eyes wide open, Huey was having trouble. Dewey had helped him shed a few tears on his own, but it required immense concentration. Huey eventually opted to relying on Dewey's method, with a little help from his own acting.

"Whatever works," Dewey frowned. He looked ridiculous with his eyes wide open and his elbows sticking in the air. Huey laughed loudly.

"You don't have to do that every second of the day," he reprimanded.

Dewey's fake frown cracked into a smile. "Why not? It's fun."

"Not really," the oldest triplet complained. "It hurts."

The power finally switched back on about mid-afternoon, though it was much too late. The damage had been done. All the food had gone bad, and no one would have a hard time believing Louie had died from the poor conditions. None of them were able to eat anything all day; not that they were hungry anyway.

Out of everyone, Donald helped Louie the most, and occasionally tried to coach Huey and Dewey. Despite his best efforts, though, the guilt fogging his mind made it hard for him to focus on anything.

By 8:45pm, they had gotten as prepared as they could. The night before had been frantic, trying to get everything into place before Mark came. This night, however, they all felt strangely calm. There was nothing they could do anymore to better anything, so they resigned themselves.

Louie lay on the edge of the rug, and Donald right next to him on the empty floor, ready to roll him up as soon as he heard the beeping on the padlock door. Huey and Dewey were laying on the other side of Louie. None of them were saying anything; just silently willing for time to go a little slower.

"Dad?" Dewey piped up softly after several minutes.

"Hm?"

"We love you."

Donald wasn't sure he believed his son. They probably hated him after the terror he was putting them through. But he responded, "I love you too, boys."

They fell into another comfortable silence until Louie said, "I'm gonna do it, guys. I won't mess it up."

"We never thought you would," Huey assured him.

"I know, but..." he trailed off for a while. "I feel like we're all gonna get to go outside soon."

"I really hope so," Dewey sighed.

"I believe in you, Louie," Donald muttered. He hugged his son from behind. "You're gonna do great, okay? Just stay calm. If you get scared, just imagine me or your brothers coaching you through it."

Louie nodded. He knew what to do. He took a couple deep breaths. His heart was pounding, but he was ready.

Huey and Dewey turned themselves around and hugged Louie from the other side. Louie groaned, being smothered in the middle, but he inched his hands up to hug his brothers.

They lay like that, completely still and silent, until they finally heard it.

_Beep._

_Beep._

_Beep._

"Get ready," Donald hissed. Huey and Dewey jumped up at the speed of lightning, immediately conjuring fake tears. Donald rolled Louie into the rug much faster than they had while practicing.

"Sorry about the power," Mark Beaks announced absentmindedly as he walked in. "I forgot to do turn it on again last night, and then I couldn't turn it on until I got home from work, and-" he stopped in his tracks when he saw the scene played out before him. His face whitened. "What... happened?"

Donald was sobbing. He was resting his head on Louie's form, wrapped up in the rug. His hands were scaling the lump, as if performing some ritual.

Mark's eyes drifted over to the other two boys. Dewey was sitting down, crying his eyes out. Though Huey had a couple tears in his eyes, his acting wasn't as good as Dewey's. He hid his face and pretended to console Dewey.

_Ignore us, ignore us, ignore us..._

Mark's eyes snapped back to Donald and he took a forceful step closer. "Donald, what _happened?"_

"He got worse in the night," Donald choked out. "Because _you_ wouldn't take him to a hospital, and you forgot to turn the power back on."

"I..." Mark's hands went to his pocket, and he pulled out a bottle of pills. "But I brought medicine..."

 _"WHO CARES? THE MEDICINE WON'T DO HIM ANY GOOD NOW!_ HE'S _DEAD_ BECAUSE OF YOU!"

"Okay, okay! Let's just calm down," Mark commanded Donald, taking a step back. He looked absolutely terrified. The only sounds for several minutes were the family's sobbing.

"You have to bury him," Donald finally looked up at Mark. His face was completely covered in tears. "Somewhere nice. Don't ditch his body in a ditch somewhere, because I'll _know."_

Mark silently nodded. He started reaching for Louie, but Donald slapped his hand away.

"AND DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT HIM, I'LL _KNOW._ DON'T YOU DARE LOOK AT HIM!"

Mark still looked like he was in complete shock, but he nodded and started to reach down again. Donald leaned over Louie, blocking him again. He was glaring at Mark with fury that none of them had ever seen before.

_"PROMISE ME YOU WON'T LOOK AT HIM! **PROMISE ME!"**_

"Okay, okay!" Mark finally shouted. "I _promise."_

Donald looked at him with a scrutinizing gaze for a moment, before deciding he was being earnest. He broke down sobbing again. He raised himself off of the rug and bent down, speaking softly to the edge of the rug. "I love you so much, Louie," he said, his voice shaking and cracking. "I love you, okay? Don't forget that. I'll be guiding you, okay?"

To Mark, Donald's words wouldn't make sense; just the promises from a delusional parent to their dead kid. To the rest of the family, it meant everything. Huey and Dewey quickly glanced at each other, and then back down.

Mark Beaks sighed and pocketed the pills. He hoisted the rug up with a grunt. He tossed Louie over his shoulder and looked back down at Donald. "I'm sorry for your loss," he muttered quietly.

Donald just shook his head, refusing to look up at him. His fists were clenched, and his gaze was fixated on the floor. Tears were still welling in his eyes.

Mark didn't move for a moment. He squinted at every one of them, and they all held their breath. Did he see through it? Was the plan working?

Finally, Mark turned back around and slowly exited through the door. Once the door had closed, followed with the audible lock clicking into place, the three of them collectively exhaled.

Huey and Dewey slowly got to their feet, their legs shaking. Huey noticed his hands were accidentally digging into Dewey's shoulder, and he ripped them away, clasping his hands together behind him.

They watched as Donald wiped the tears from his face, and slowly stood up. He was breathing heavily, and after a moment he looked back to his boys.

"What now?" Dewey asked. The two boys went to sit on the bed.

Donald walked over to join them. "Now... we wait."

He attempted to give his boys a comforting smile, but it cracked after a moment and he looked forwards again. He looked fairly calm but it was easy to tell how scared he was.

They all gazed off at nothing, unable to concentrate on anything else. Their fate was in Louie's hands now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who's ready for the next chapter? >:)
> 
> I can't wait for you guys to read it!

**Author's Note:**

> Name credit and inspiration for the story goes to @tomb-bloom-noctem on Tumblr because I cannot name my stories I'm so bad at it lol, so thank you!! :)


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